


whitelines

by ro_blaze



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fairy Tail Big Bang 2019/2020, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Multi, Other, Smut, i only tagged the romantic tags and the 6 main characters, not that the bropts arent important i just didnt want it to be too chunky, oh well, pls check every chapter's note, the whole package really, there is a lot of shit going on so pls be careful, there is lots of stuff going on so idk, will tag triggers as they come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_blaze/pseuds/ro_blaze
Summary: the gift of magic is a fickle, peculiar one - it ties you with the very life force of the universe, bonding your soul forever with the one standing in the other end of a thin thread; the only proof of that bond - a splatter of ink on one’s skin.[soulmates au. erzajane, gratsu, gajevy.]
Relationships: Erza Scarlet/Mirajane Strauss, Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	1. ERZA I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> erza meets an interesting new customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my lads
> 
> this is. uuh. this is going to be a wild ride, so strap your seatbelt and prepare.
> 
> whitelines has been an idea for more than a year now. i started finally writing it in late october 2019, then wrote the majority of it (chapters 2 to 17) in november for nanowrimo and then finished with chapter 18 in early january
> 
> (yes, this does mean the fic is over 50k. call me a madperson cause i sure am one)
> 
> this fic is going to feature illustrations, both by me and by watcher-ofthe-sky, my fabulous partner for his project, and i'm going to link the illustrations as they come so stay tuned! 
> 
> now, without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter of "whitelines"!
> 
> triggers: none
> 
> word count: 2272, give or take

One would think that after years upon years of holding court meetings and war councils, one would be accustomed to boredom. Erza, however, had never truly managed to reach that higher state of existence. A fact which, in turn, turned every quiet day in the shop into endless torture.

‘What is the point of even keeping it open on weekends if no one comes in?’ she’d asked one day, some years ago, the first time she’d ever gotten fed up with sitting behind the register and staring at the wall for hours. Gajeel had given her the flattest, dryest look since a century or so back and Natsu had laughed out loud, then explained something about some kind of personal business that she’d tried her best to listen to. Since then, they’d agreed to close it on Saturday and keep it only half-time on Sunday, which was a relief. At least to a certain degree.

It certainly didn’t turn any of those boring hours any more interesting, but that was a burden she was willing to bear.

The ringing of metal against metal from the back of the workshop stopped for a moment and a soft curse sounded out before the ringing resumed. Erza tapped her fingers on her cheek, staring at the wall opposite her desk. Perhaps she ought to put some sort of tapestry there. Maybe flowers? Natsu had mentioned they should liven up the place on their business meeting two weeks ago and boxes upon boxes of random souvenirs filled the attic to the brim. Surely, she could find something and— 

Someone pushed the door and walked in, the doorbell ringing. Erza straightened herself and looked over, forcing her face to soften so she could greet the possible customer properly.

“Hello,” she called, raising her voice to attract the person’s attention. “Welcome to “The Dragon’s Scale”. How can I help you?”

The customer—a petite, elderly woman with what seemed to be sight problems—immediately bounded over, placing her hefty purse on the cash register. Erza had to bite back a roll of her eyes. She could already tell it was going to be a long one. 

“Oh, dear, you’re just what I need!” the elderly woman exclaimed, her high-pitched voice almost making Erza flinch. Not for the first time, she cursed the heightened senses that came from her draconic heritage. “You see, I was out on a walk with my little dog, Poppy. A beautiful afternoon, warm sun and gentle wind. I’m walking home and what do I see? My home has been broken into! How horrendous!”

“A disgrace, indeed, madam, but—”

“I immediately called for help,” the woman continued without missing a beat, “but by the time they reached my home, the culprit was long gone! It’s been happening so often recently, and I decided that I probably need—”

“—a protection talisman?” Erza offered. She would _not_ grit her teeth. She would _not_ roll her eyes. Every customer was to be respected and listened to and certainly _not_ kicked out, no matter how annoying they turned out to be. “We can help you if that’s the case.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. It made the wrinkles around her brow more prominent and brought out a surprising coldness in her eyes. (For a moment, Erza entertained the thought that if they were to age, Gajeel and she would surely gain just as many wrinkles as the lady had. Natsu did often point that out. ‘Scowling makes you look old’, they’d told her once, and she had snorted before smacking the back of their head with a couch cushion.)

“I was thinking something more of the lines of placing a protection spell on my property,” the elderly woman explained, the previous warmth in her voice noticeably absent. 

“I’m afraid our shop doesn’t provide spells,” Erza told her, a pleased smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “We make charms and talismans charged with magic and deal with all sorts of magical and non-magical objects, but we don’t have a magician on site.”

“I see.” The elderly woman’s voice was icy. “You should start doing it, young lady. It would surely bring better revenue to your small shop.”

“I can assure you, madam, our shop is enjoying great success these years,” Erza said easily. Humans were notorious for assuming things like gender and age, were they not? She wondered how much older she was than her supposed customer. 700? 800? She’d never been good at guessing how mortals aged. Or, to be fair, remembering her own age on the top of her mind. “May I interest you in our protective charms?”

After a short, tense conversation, the two finally came to an agreement. (As much as one could call half a dozen short, clipped sentences a conversation, that is.) The elderly woman walked out with the cheapest protection charm gripped in her harpy-like fingers, almost slamming the shop’s door. 

“Make sure it doesn’t hit you on the way out!” Erza called after her in a burst of Natsu-like childishness. 

With a dramatic sigh of the likes she’d learned to emulate from her cousins, Erza collapsed on the register, blowing a lock of hair away from her forehead. She ought to start tying her hair during work hours, lest it gets all tangled up again. 

Quiet steps reached her ears and she turned her head to the direction they came from, not even bothering to sit up.

“Rough audience?” Gajeel asked, leaning against the wall between the common space and his workshop.

“For a moment, I wanted to strangle her,” Erza admitted after a second of quiet despair, her voice mildly muffled by the desktop currently pressed against her cheek. “I shall add this to one of the many reasons we should be closed during the weekends.”

Her cousin let out a soft snort before walking over and resting against the counter. His braid had come half-undone and there was a black smear on his cheek. Ink or oil, perhaps? Grime? 

“Tell me something new,” he suggested. “It was kinda obvious, by the tone of your voice. How long is that list, though?”

Erza lifted one eyebrow, unamused. 

“About two feet, give or take.” She brushed her hair from her face. “What are you here for, _mother_? Another lecture? Not that you want you to go back,” she added hurriedly when it seemed he would turn away. “ Even your company is preferable to… you know. _Nothing_.”

“How kind you are, cousin,” he drew out, ducking out when she reached to slap his arm.

If Gajeel was in some way insulted by her words—which she for a fact knew he wasn’t—he did nothing to show it, only rolling his eyes. (Living for almost a millennia with someone kind of did that to one’s patience.)

“Why have you decided to honor me with your presence?” Erza asked, finally lifting herself off the desk in a half-hearted attempt to at least play the part of a presentable shopkeeper.

“No reason in particular,” he said with a shrug and gestured to the general idea of the door that led into his workshop at the back. “Just finished the final touch-ups on the last batch, so I decided I should come and entertain my poor, suffering cousin.”

“How kind of you.”

“Why, we’re family after all.” He gave her a fanged grin. ”Also, it’s almost 4. I thought you’d like to know. Since you are, y’know, so _adamant_ to leave.”

Erza’s mood certainly went up, a rare smile coming to her face.

“Should have said so sooner!” she cried, half-laughing. “Give me ten.”

Gajeel laughed his bark-like laugh, but there was no real bite to it.

“It’s kinda scary that you find war less traumatizing than empty hours, y’know. What would history say about the courageous Scarlet Storm of all people wanting to skip shifts?”

“If I cared what history said about me, I wouldn’t be here,” Erza told him, amusement laced in her voice. 

* * *

Erza had almost completed the usual closing routines—counting up the cash, locking the register and sweeping the floor— when the bell rang and shop’s door opened, only to closed abruptly a second later, the impact knocking something off the shelf closest to the entrance. 

She winced, horrified at the idea there was another mess she’d be forced to clean, and lifted her eyes from desk she was supposed to be sorting. While she’d done the reasonable thing and expected the untimely intruder to be no one but her wild cousin, she hadn’t completely discarded the possibility of it being a late customer she’d probably be forced to turn down.

Said customer strode over to the register on a pair of impossibly long legs, their short dark hair damp from the light rain outside. (Perfect. Now she’d have to mop the floors as well. Just perfect.) In their hands, they held a small, haphazardly wrapped box.

“Hello and welcome to “The Dragon’s Scale”,” Erza greeted with a level voice, narrowing her eyes at the stranger. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed— ”

“Plea- _se_ ,” the stranger said, their voice breaking at the last syllable. They placed the box on the counter, their fingers shaking. “I need your help.”

On the inside, Erza cursed her soft heart. Gajeel would surely laugh at her. Casting another look at the poor person, she reached for the box and opened it. Inside laid what she assumed was a broken animal collar. She picked it and brought it to her face for an examination, running her fingers over the half-faded runes engraved into the soft leather.

“Your familiar ran away?” she asked, carefully lowering the collar back into its box. 

The stranger flinched at her words.

“She did _not_ run away,” they insisted, their mouth drawn into a harsh line. “She— ”

“I’m not blaming you,” Erza said, voice flat and showing all her annoyance. “Whatever happened with your pet is your business. _My business_ is fixing the collar, so don’t start crying over my floor.”

The stranger visibly relaxed, their shoulders slumping. Erza recognized the look of guilt on their face—she saw it every morning in the mirror, didn’t she—and wondered how much they blamed themselves. The kid had looked at the verge of slapping her when she’d suggested their pet ran away.

“We will probably have it fixed in a couple of days,” she continued, getting out a pad and pen. “Please, write your name and number so I can contact you when it’s done.”

The stranger leaned over the register, folding their long legs, and reached for the pad she’d offered. While the two were roughly the same height, the stranger was lankier, with long and thin fingers to match, giving the impression of beanstalk like limbs. Erza found the random comparison hilarious and wondered if she’d channeled her inner Natsu for a second there.

The stranger, obvious to her _highly entertaining_ internal monologue, rolled their sleeves up as they took the pen, quickly scribbling down their name and contacts in handwriting that resembled gibberish more than any comprehensible written language Erza knew. And she knew _four_ of them. (Then again, the poor kid’s hands were shaking violently and they almost dropped the pen, so she decided she would cut them some slack.)

While they scribbled, Erza decided to study them some more and ran her eyes over their form. Her eyes lingered on their right arm and for a moment she thought she saw fire rising from their flesh—then she blinked and recognized a painfully familiar pattern stretching over the expanse of pale skin between their wrist and elbow and disappearing under the nondescript gray hoodie, its vivid color rivaling the brightest of flames. Something settled into the depths of her gut, a peculiar mixture of dread and euphoria. 

The stranger handed her back the writing pad and tucked their hands into the pockets of their oversized hoodie. Erza found it hard to tear her eyes from them, even as their sleeve slipped down their arm and covered the splatter of bright orange-red ink.

“Gray Fullbuster,” she read out loud, her voice trembling a touch too much to be normal. She scribbled the order next to the name and handed them a card with the shop’s contacts on it, forcing herself to act reasonably. _Calm and collected._ “Feel free to call in whenever you want and ask for updates. If my estimates are correct, we will be done in a week’s time.”

Lying almost made her feel bad. Then again, it was a for a good cause, so she shoved her conscience back down and offered a smile. The stranger—Gray—nodded and accepted the card, tucking it into their pocket. 

“I think I can come over this Wednesday,” they said. The corner of their mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. “Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t mention it,” Erza whispered and waved them off.

Once the kid was gone, she locked up after them and leaned against the window. Her eyes caught their shape in the cloudy late summer afternoon and she watched them walk away, all until they disappeared behind the corner. Then, she let out the most longsuffering groan her lungs could produce and allowed herself to slump down the length of the window. 

_ “Holy shit.” _

There was a light noise that _suspiciously_ sounded like glass breaking. Then Gajeel’s head peered from the workshop’s door.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked eloquently.

“I have some very good news,” Erza told him, then explained the situation with a sort of enthusiasm she hadn’t felt ever since opening the shop had turned from exciting to mundane. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!
> 
> p.s.: i'm still looking for a beta for this fic, so if you're interested, slide into my DMs on tumblr or twitter and we will talk it out!
> 
> p.p.s.: expect chapter 2 next tuesday! i will keep an update schedule of one chapter per week! i love you~


	2. LEVY I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> levy visits her new therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh we're finally getting into the meat and bones of this of this 
> 
> reminder: I'm still looking for a beta! pls if you have interest dm me on tumblr or twitter!
> 
> trigger warning: mild anxiety? (i don't know how to t a g)
> 
> word count: about 3700

If there was one single thing Levy absolutely hated in this world, doing paperwork definitely won the cake.

(Well, nightmares too. And those horrible visions. Also, the highest shelf in the library. And when there was no more coffee left in the cupboard and she was forced to go to the corner store dressed in her pajamas and a pair of fluffy slippers at stupid o’clock in the morning. And a list of other miscellaneous things, like those kids who kept messing her flower pots or that old lady who lived across the block and kept chasing the friendly birds that would try to nest on the roofs. But those were not on her mind.)

Levy rubbed her eyes as she ran her fingers through her messy curls and winced in pain when she caught into a knot, a half-full cup of coffee resting dangerously close to her elbow. She wished she’d had the time to bring herself into a presentable state or at least braided her hair, twirling one fluffy strand between her thumb and forefinger as she fiddled with her pen.

“It’s too early to be forced out,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her pen as she tried to hide a yawn in her palm.

“It’s just past 9 in the morning, sweetheart,” the pretty waitress that had served her drink chirped cheerfully as she walked by, a pot of steaming coffee held in her hands. “Would you like a refill?”

Levy squinted for a moment her vision hazy, then remembered her glasses currently sat on top of her head and slid them down so she could actually see. Although they ended up almost falling in the process, she caught them in the last moment and adjusted them against the bridge of her nose. 

The waitress gave her a warm smile, still holding out the pot. It smelled delicious and _no_ , her mouth wasn’t growing wet at the idea of all that _sweet, sweet caffeine._

Her phone buzzed with a message, the strong vibrations almost managing to knock it off the table and violently ripping her away from her caffeine-induced daydreaming. Levy let out an incredibly unladylike squeak and dove down in a desperate attempt to catch her phone, holding the still buzzing device to her chest like it was her most precious belonging.

(And it kind of _was_ , if you really thought about it.)

“Are you alright?” the waitress asked, setting the pot on the table and bending down to help her. “I can bring you some water if you want.”

“I’m fine,” Levy reassured her, hoping against reason her voice didn’t sound as anxious as she thought it did. Her fingers shook as she carefully set her phone down, her palms unusually damp. “Can I have the bill, please?” she asked, wincing when a small hiccup slipped past her lips. “And a-a— water would be nice, yes. Thank you, miss...”

“Mirajane, dear,” the waitress supplied with a warm smile and gently tapped the back of her hand. “I will be right back, okay? Just give me a second. ”

Levy stared after her as the kind waitress disappeared behind the register, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. Once she was out of sight, she slumped into her chair with an exhausted groan, tears filling up in her eyes. This morning couldn’t have gone any worse. 

First, she’d overslept and almost missed her bus, taking the usual ten-minute walk from her building to the stop in less than five. Then, she’d promptly tripped while climbing the bus and received a nice, throbbing scrape on her knee in return. On the bus itself, a small group of children had harassed her all through the ride, tugging on her hair and sprouting some incredibly rude words about her appearance that made the small family of three that sat across the aisle from her give her a stink look before covering their child’s ears. Unable to stand any more of that without breaking into tears, Levy had grit her teeth and then gotten off one stop before she had to, clutching her shawl with trembling fingers and almost breaking into a run in a desperate attempt to get as far as possible.

And then, to top it off, she’d been halfway on the way to the clinic when she’d gotten a call that her booked time had to be moved at least one hour later because _apparently_ , the therapist she’d signed for had some serious family-related issues and couldn’t get to their office any earlier than 10.

_ So much for waking up at 7 to get a headstart on the day. _

Mirajane returned with a slip of paper and a bottle of water in her hand, humming a soft melody Levy thought she’d heard somewhere before. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” she said with a kind smile. “You leaving?”

“Mhm. Important appointment.” Levy handed her a banknote and eagerly picked up the water, stashing it into her purse along with the small mountain of papers she’d miraculously managed to balance on the coffee table. “Keep the change, please. And thank you for everything.”

“Nothing at all.” Mirajane smiled, showing off deep dimples. It was oddly contagious, that pretty smile of hers, and Levy found herself smiling back. “Please visit if you come around again some other time, dear, your presence really made my morning.” She winked. “And have a nice day, okay?!”

“You too,” Levy whispered, flustered by the kind words. Her chest swelled up with warmth. “See you again soon.” 

With one final shy wave to the smiling waitress, Levy picked her half-full paper cup and walked out of the quaint cafe, making the mental note to visit every time she was around before a session.

* * *

On her way to the clinic, Levy ran into someone and promptly fell on her butt. Fortunately, her almost empty coffee cup didn’t spill and ruin the poor stranger’s clothes, which she considered a victory—a minor one, but a victory nonetheless. (She needed at least one of those.) Unfortunately, as the two of them tried their best to get to their feet and apologized over and over, her shawl came off and fell to the ground.

Levy gave a flustered, shaky smile and knelt down, clumsily reaching for her shawl. The damage had already been done though, dirt marring the soft, hand-sewn linen. She quickly wrapped up into it and tucked her hair into it, then apologized again and bowed her head like her parents had taught her when she was still a budding girl. Without waiting for the stranger to speak, she fled, briskly making her way down the street over to the small clinic. Even as she sped up, her heart hammering in the cage of her ribs, she felt the eyes of that stranger and their friends burning a hole through the back of her skull.

No matter how fast she ran or how far away she stood, the pity and the fear clung to her shoulder like a cloak made out of her darkest nightmares.

At last, she reached the clinic’s door. She gave the guard a subdued greeting and received a curt nod in return, then stepped inside.

The clinic looked nothing out of the ordinary—walls painted in soft yellows and greens and a touch of purple, comfortable couches and chairs strewn all around small, wooden tables. A small smile pulled on her lips at the sound of the soft music that came from one of the probably many hidden speakers. With her shoulders a touch more relaxed, Levy walked over to the register.

What she could only guess to be her therapist-to-be’s secretary looked almost as tired as she felt, perfectly done makeup barely concealing the dark circles under their eyes.

“Hello and how can I help you?” they asked, pushing their messy blonde hair away from their face.

Levy allowed herself to relax further as she explained her situation. The secretary seemed to be only half-listening to her, nodding off every now and then. As much as she wanted to hurry, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy—the lack of sleep and its consequences were almost a friend at this point, with how much they seemed to enjoy visiting her.

“Aunt— I mean, Dr. Heartfilia will be here in just a bit,” the secretary said once Levy finished her spiel. “Again, I want to apologize for the inconvenience we probably caused you.”

“No such thing,” Levy lied, the smile coming easily to her lips. They looked as if they were about to cry every moment and while she shared that notion, she definitely didn’t want to push the dams. “I will just sit here and wait for my time, alright?”

“Yeah. If there’s anything you need or want, call me. I will be here until seven o’clock anyways, if I don’t catch roots anytime soon.” The secretary attempted to smile, then groaned in a very dramatic manner and buried their face in their hands. “I’m sorry, I’m such a goddamn trainwreck today.”

“Please, don’t apologize.” Levy reached and gently tapped the tips of their fingers, cautious of pushing any limits. “To be honest, I feel on the verge of crying myself.”

“Why so?” The secretary wiped their eyes and looked at her. “Oh, I’m sorry if I’m intruding, just— ”

“It’s okay!” Levy said with a small laugh that sounded more like a sob to her ears. “I just had a very long morning, and— “ She snapped her mouth shut before she could get any more personal and embarrassing things out. "I— I will just go sit there before my legs give out.”

The secretary gave her a half-smile, then turned around to address what was probably the other patient who’d just walked in. Levy found a comfortable spot in the corner closest to the therapist’s office door and promptly slumped on the couch, toeing off her shoes and curling up into a ball. 

The gentle music wrapped around her like a blanket, lulling her into some sort of comfort. After some time, the tension in her shoulders slowly dispersed and her breathing eased. She could almost ignore the small lights flickering on the edges of her vision, too. The secretary worked quietly behind their register, making phone calls and typing things down on their computer. Their soft voice reminded Levy of the ringing of bells or maybe the rustle of petals against the spring wind. It was oddly comforting, too.

The old grandfather clock on the wall slowly ticked off with every minute. (Who in these days even had traditional clocks? At least it was a pretty one, with silver framework and flowers carved into the wood.) Levy carefully uncurled herself from her so comfortable ball. _So much for downtime_. She had to make a good first impression on her therapist. (Then, she could allow herself to have a full-blown breakdown. That sounded like a _brilliant_ plan.)

She reached up to her head and slowly unwound her shawl. Her fingers lightly brushed the hand-sewn embroidery that lined the hem as she brought it to her face for an examination, wincing at the dark stain on its otherwise soft yellow fabric. Just her luck.

“It’s my favorite one, too...” she muttered softly, sighing.

“That sucks a lot, dude.”

Levy promptly jumped and almost fell off her seat, clutching the shawl in one hand and gripping the couch’s armrest with the other one. (And desperately hoping the sound she let out was more of a startled squeak than the cries of a bird dying violently.) Fortunately, the person who had startled her had the manners and the good grace to help her up.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry I scared you,” they said when Levy finally got back to her seat and her heart returned to a somewhat regular beat, scratching the back of their head with a rather sheepish expression.

“It’s alright,” she reassured with a small smile. 

The stranger beamed at her, their bring grin lighting up their whole face and making the splatter of dark freckles over their nose stand out. It brought a rather childish and innocent look to their face, scars and definitely the most messed up mascara in the world notwithstanding. 

“ _Natsu_!” called the secretary, their voice ringing in the big entry room. “Are you harassing the other patients again?!”

“No such thing, Luce!” the stranger — Natsu — called back, one of their hands coming to scratch their cheek. “I’m just making new friends!”

The secretary (Luce?) let out a rumble that made it seem as if they definitely didn’t agree, but seemingly let it go. Natsu promptly stretched all the way on their now shared couch, lifting their arms to cross over their head. Their sun-kissed skin bore some more of those dark freckles over the very tops of their shoulders, as well as many faded scars. Patched of orange and pink scales decorated what was visible of their body.

“Sorry if the yelling is bothering you,” they spoke after a couple of minutes had gone past, voice down to a whisper. “Luce’s highkey not having a good week and it’s kinda stressing her out.”

“I figured,” Levy said with a small smile. “And it’s alright. You’re not being too loud. Yet.”

Natsu threw their head back and laughed. Their laughter had a very natural quality to it, almost reminiscent of the cracking of burning wood. They ran their hands through their messy pink hair and looked towards her, a smile still resting over their mouth. Levy couldn’t help but smile back as she adjusted her shawl around her neck again, the tips of her fingers running lightly over the marked skin underneath. 

“Yet? I like that.” They held up one hand to her. “C’mon, give me five.”

Amused by their childish antics, Levy lifted her hand and let it hit theirs with a resounding _slap_. 

Natsu turned out to be quite a pleasant company. They had a stellar humor sense and the habit to laugh at their own jokes, which only made Levy’s cheeks hurt even more as she giggled along. Her morning had been horrible from the very start and their comforting presence, combined with the homey feeling of the clinic, helped all her nerves disappear. She’d sincerely missed having someone to sit and share jokes with.

There was something oddly familiar to them, too, as if seeing an old friend for the first time, but she couldn’t quite put her finger to it. Had they met before?

“Stars above, I think I need a moment to rest,” Levy said at last, still hiccuping from her last giggling spell. 

“My astounding wit is too much for you, ah?” Natsu joked just as she took a sip from her bottle.

Levy promptly giggled again, which caused her to spew water all over her new friend.

“Well. That was unexpected,” they said quietly, wiping their hand over their cheek. Their expression oddly reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights. “I suppose I was burning up and you decided to put me out?”

Levy let out a loud snort and quickly closed the bottle before any other accidents would occur.

“I’m so sorry,” she told them as she produced a box of tissues from her purse. “I swear, it wasn’t on purpose, just...”

“All is good, new friend,” Natsu waved her off, but eagerly took the tissues she offered. “My cousins don’t appreciate my jokes and Luce starts running away from me when I do it in public.”

“That’s because your jokes are very childish,” ‘Luce’ quipped from behind the register.

“But people do like them!” Natsu called, an expression of victory written over their face. 

Levy had to suppress another snort.

“Anyway, my amazing humor sense notwithstanding,” they continued, this time turning towards her, “what are you here for? As long as all is good with asking.”

“All is good,” Levy assured them, settling more comfortably into the couch. “I recently moved to Magnolia and my parents insisted I keep going on therapy for my terrors. Apparently they have some connections here, because they managed to arrange me an appointment with Dr. Heartfilia the moment I finally agreed.”

“Family can be like that sometimes,” Natsu agreed wisely, nodding their head along. “But they only want the best for you. Even if they are obnoxious about it.”

“That they do,” Levy agreed, twirling the hem of her shawl between her fingers. “I just… I wonder if this therapy thing is the best for me, though.”

“How so?” 

Levy peered up at her new friend, insecurities clawing up her throat. Should she continue? She could already imagine the pity. Everyone pitied her. Except for the ones who were scared of her. Oh, there were some of them too.

“I have… a complicated past,” she admitted at last, fingers running over the inside of her hand and lightly tracing the golden lines etched into her skin under the fabric of her sleeve. “Therapy keeps trying to get me to ever get over it and leave it behind, but...”

“I feel you,” Natsu said, their voice now devoid of their previous energy. When she looked at them, she saw a thoughtful expression now taken over their face. “But there are some things you just want to leave behind… Don’t you? To _forget_?”

Levy let out a hollow laugh, bitterness swelling into the depths of her heart.

“I wish I could remember whatever I’m supposed to forget,” she whispered, her voice catching on something. “I wish… I wish I could remember my past.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the ticking of the grandfather clock on the wall. Even the soft music had stopped. Levy rubbed her temple, feeling the familiar burn of the headache coming back. She was definitely not having a good day.

The clinic’s door opened and someone walked in, slipping off their long coat as they marched over with a brisk pace. Levy looked up and saw the stranger lean against the register, hands coming to unwind the tight bun on their head. 

“I see, I see. Make sure you take a moment to rest, Lucy. The night’s been a long one,” they spoke in a soft tone as they finally turned away from the register, clutching a faded hair tie in one hand and a manila folder in the other. They waved to Lucy and then proceed to walk over to the only occupied coach. “Hello. Sorry I made you wait.”

“Auntie Anna!” Natsu cried with a bright smile. Then, they narrowed their eyes in mock-anger. “You’re _late_.”

“I had some unfortunate luck,” the lady amended, then tilted her head in a manner that reminded Levy of the bird she’d seen hang out by her apartment’s windowsill. “I’m doctor Anna Heartfilia, but you can call me just Anna. And… you must be Levy, right?”

Natsu let out a choked sound, something between a gasp and groan. Concerned, Levy turned to them and gently patted their back, hoping everything was alright.

“Are you okay?” she asked, picking up her water from where it lay discarded on the small table and offering it to them.

“Peachy.” Natsu gave her a sharp-toothed grin. “Wanna go for coffee after this? My treat.”

That was a… peculiar offer, but something in her heart grew warm and fuzzy at the idea. Levy looked up to her therapist-to-be, unsure if she was allowed to waste any more of her precious time. Dr. Heartfilia gave her a small smile and nodded, then headed to her office with a _swoosh_ of her long hair. She left the door wide open. 

“I already had one, but I won’t mind a second,” Levy agreed at last, lips curving up. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“Just… just suddenly remembered something important,” Natsu said, an almost faraway look in their eyes. Then they looked at her and smiled—it was a genuine kind of smile. It only made the fuzzy sensation grow stronger. “Now go, _shoo_. I will wait here for you and go bother Luce.”

“Like hell you will,” Lucy called to them, but in her voice, it was evident she was smiling.

Levy nodded and smiled at her new friend, then picked her purse and walked into the office.

“Close the door behind you, please,” Dr. Heartfilia said, her front facing away from the door as she made an attempt to tie her long hair into a ponytail with some questionable success. 

Levy closed the door firmly and made her way to the small couch just as Dr. Heartfilia settled down on her armchair, the same folder she’d been holding before now resting in her lap. She sat in silence for a moment, pressing the tips of her fingers together and watching her over the tops of her nails.

“A secondborn from the Dragon King Festival with frequent nightmares and constant visions, as well as general anxiety and occasional hallucinations,” she said at last, as if reading off a list. Levy winced and averted her eyes. Dr. Heartfilia gave her a kind look. “Are you sure you want to do this, Levy?”

The question surprised her.

“What do you mean?” Levy asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Do you want to do this?” Dr. Heartfilia asked again. “Talking to me about these things? It might cause you to remember many, many things. Things that might hurt you. Things that might break you. Or, if you’re seeking some sort of a closure, you might not get what you’re looking for.”

“I’m not sure I know what I want,” Levy admitted, curling up her hands into fists in a rather pathetic attempt to stop herself from shaking. At last, she forced herself to lift her head and met her therapist’s eyes. “But… I wish… I wish to remember. I want to know. Even if that isn’t what’s best for me, I can’t stand these oppressive blank spots in my memory, I can’t stand looking at the mirror and not recognizing the person on the other side.”

“Good, good. You have some sort of idea what you want. That is plenty for us to begin with.” Dr. Heartfilia gave her an encouraging smile. “Let’s start with the easiest. Tell me — what you remember of dying?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!


	3. NATSU I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> natsu asks a girl out for some coffee. there is a lot of panicking going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> natsu is chaos and anxiety wrapped up in paper foil and topped off with lots and lots of puns.
> 
> everyone is dramatic bc 1) i'm dramatic and 2) it's fun
> 
> AHHH WE'RE FINALLY GETTING TO THE REAL DEAAAAAAAAAL
> 
> the first of our couples finally meets for the very first time, we get some details about the dragons' past and people cry a little because crying is good for the soul
> 
> word count: about 4400 
> 
> (im scared we're gonna reach, like, 70k by the end of this. oh well. enjoy!)

Natsu was absolutely, one fucking hundred percent, fucked. Like, “ _say goodbye to all the street cats around the neighborhood_ ” fucked. Not even “c _an I talk to my attorney?_ ” fucked.

_Bury-me-six-feet-under_ fucked.

_Ring-the-bell_ fucked. 

They were going to die, still young and unmated and with so many dreams ahead, and no one— 

“Natsu?” 

The rustle of papers violently tore them away from where they were planning out their will and Natsu snapped their head up. Quiet steps reached their ears and suddenly Lucy stood next to them, lowing herself on the couch. Her face looked a bit pale, her eyes trained on them, her hands coming to gently pat their thigh.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice softer than she’d ever spoken to them.

“Peachy,” Natsu said with a small smile, trying their best to pretend their attempt to reassure their friend didn’t just flop. In the most pathetic manner ever. _Gods_ , they wanted a shovel. “I’m all okay.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice grew higher in pitch, words tumbling out faster and skipping letters like always did whether she was anxious. “I can call Erza or Gajeel, I’m sure at least one of them can immediately come to get yo— ”

“I’m fine, Luce,” they repeated and gave her shaking hand a gentle squeeze. “Promise.”

Holy fuck, they were _so fucking_ fucked. And Gajeel, oh, poor Gajeel... How were they even supposed to explain everything to him? _Hey fam, I just met your supposedly dead soulmate in auntie Anna’s clinic. Fun, right? I’m starving! So, what’s for dinner?_ He was going to—he was going to kill them. And then, knowing him, probably die with them. Because he was a dramatic bitch like that.

And then Erza would have to bury their bodies somewhere. _Ugh_. Erza _sucked_ at digging.

“Natsu.” Lucy grabbed them by the shoulders and shook them gently, dragging them out of their head and the calculations of how difficult would it be to just dig their grave prematurely and then drop the bomb. “You look as you’ve seen a ghost. Are you sure— ”

_ Oh, ghost, really? The irony. _

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Natsu sighed dramatically and slumped down on the couch, wiggling their arms all the way to their fingers. For a more dramatic effect, of course, because they knew their shit. “Might as well have,” they added quietly.

“You’re pale. Have you taken your meds?”

“Yes.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“Need some water?”

“Yes, _mom_ ,” they teased, gently poking her arm. “Y’know, you’re beginning to sound just like Gajeel! Minus all that scowling and cursing.”

“Well, you always seem to need someone to keep you in check, don’t you?” Lucy teased back. Then, her face softened. “I can get you some juice if you want.”

“A normal friend would offer coffee,” Natsu said, but got up and followed her anyway.

“A normal friend would know to never give you anything caffeinated.”

Natsu gasped in mock offense and pressed one hand to their chest, as if shot dead-center in the heart. 

“You would me,” they cried in mock-offended tone, voice rising to a whine. “And here I thought you _loved_ me, Luce!”

“Please.” She waved them off, but at least she was smiling again and that was a victory like no other. “I merely tolerate you, foolish mortal child.”

“Ouch, that hurt.”

“You deserve it.” 

“Also, I’m pretty sure I’m at least a couple hundred years older than you?”

Lucy gave them a flat, dry look, her mouth pulled in a thin line, and it almost had them rolling in the floor in laughter. Then, may the gods bless her, she brought a carton of orange juice out of the office mini-fridge and two glasses.

“I want a swirly straw.”

“Well, sucks for you then. I don’t have a swirly straw,” Lucy deadpanned.

Natsu let out a whine and jabbed at her arm. Say whatever you want about them, really, but they were the youngest sibling, they _knew_ how to be obnoxious. When she pulled away, they kept poking her a couple more times before she finally gave in and produced a bright orange swirly straw. (They could distinctly remember the origin of that particular orange straw. _Oh, joy._ )

“You’re horrible sometimes,” she complained as they sat down, sipping their juice.

“Your words are a balm to my ears.”

“Why am I even friends with you?” Lucy asked, lifting her hands to the sky as if she was evoking the gods.

“Might have something to do with my dashing looks and mind-blowing sense of humor,” Natsu suggested playfully, twirling their straw.

Lucy snorted and proceed to choke on her juice, knocking over the almost empty glass. It hit the floor and spilled its content, but miraculously didn’t shatter. Natsu dissolved into laughter.

“I utterly and completely despise you, Dragneel,” Lucy called and shoved at their arm, then knelt down to clean off the spilled juice. 

“Love you too, sugarplum,” Natsu half-sang, using one of their cousin’s favorite phrases, then got on the floor to help her.

* * *

Distracted by playing around with Lucy, having fun and being a fool in general, Natsu had completely forgotten the original source of their distress.

When the door of auntie Anna’s opened and a petite lady with hair the color of the clear sky walked out of it, adjusting the flower embroidered yellow shawl around her neck, they shoot up as if doused with freezing cold water and promptly slammed their knee into the small coffee table. A yell of pain tore from their mouth and they fell back into the small couch.

There came a gasp and a flutter of feet and before Natsu could form any sort of reaction, Levy had already run over. She knelt on the floor in front of them reached into her purse, taking out a box that smelled suspiciously of medicine, and opened the lid with meticulous, calculated movements that reminded them of Gajeel’s work-worn hands in the forge.

“I’m fine,” Natsu tried to reassure her, offering a pathetic smile and biting down on a pained gasp.

Levy gave them a look that showed she didn’t believe them a single ounce, then gestured for them to roll up their pant leg. When they tried to pull away, she gripped their knee gently.

“Natsu,” she spoke softly, as if dealing with an unruly child. (Oh, if that wasn’t a slap to the face, they didn’t know what else was.) “I am a nurse. I can help you. Okay? Relax your leg and let me help you. Let me help you.”

Natsu nodded, angrily wiping at the wetness that had welled in their eyes, and sat quietly in their place as she worked. Levy gave them a kind smile, then scooped two fingers worth of some kind of clear, green gel out of the box. Under their wary gaze, she gently smeared the medicine over the forming bruise on their knee, her fingers massaging it into the quickly swelling skin. The gel had the distinct smell of mint, settling somewhere deep into their core and recalling fond memories to the forefront of their mind. Overcome with emotions and a deeply-rooted sense of comfort, they watched as she finished, then deposited the small box with the gel back into her seemingly bottomless purse. 

“You didn’t have to,” Natsu whispered as they got on their feet and rolled back down their pant leg.

“I wanted to,” Levy whispered back, averting her eyes. She twisted and twirled her fingers, a sure tell she was anxious, for one reason or another. A last, however, a small smile came to her face. “Plus, I startled you. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“I startled you before,” they reminded her, then gently touched her arm to get her attention. “I guess you got back at me, hmm?”

Levy blinked at them for a second, tilting her head in a manner that reminded them of a bird. Then she smiled again and it seemed to light up her whole face, her nose scrunching with the motion. For a moment, fondness and affection for this small woman hit them like a destructive wave—for a moment, they wished nothing more but to wrap their arms around her and cry into her shoulder, let her know just how much everyone missed her, how much _they_ missed her.

Instead, they offered their arm in their best attempt to imitate a Prince Charming.

“Shall we go, radiant lady?” they asked. “I mean, if you’re comfortable being called a lady. Sorry I didn’t ask— ”

“Lady is quite alright,” Levy said with a small giggle, but accepted their offered arm, leaning to rest her fingers on the crook of their elbow. Each movement carried a peculiar but undeniable manner of grace, of lightness. “But… don’t you have your own session with the doctor right now? Is this alright?”

“Nope,” Natsu assured, popping out the ‘p’ as they led her out of the clinic. “I just popped over to bug with Luce and check on her, that’s all. And,” they turned to face her, “even if I had something, I can always reschedule.”

“Oh? You have connections, then?” Levy asked, then dramatically fanned herself with her hand in mock-awe. “Oh, I have made such an important acquaintance! I am simply _starstruck_.”

“We… we are kinda family?” Natsu admitted. They stopped at the corner of the sidewalk and waited for the light to turn green. They hated waiting out the light, but such were the cruel laws of civilization. “It’s… kinda complicated. But auntie Anna—that is, Doctor Heartfilia—was kind of my mom’s apprentice? Before I was born? And she sort of married one of my cousins’ mom and then had my cousin with her and— ”

They stopped mid-sentence, unsure how to continue. The complicated bloodlines of their family confused everyone and them more than most—Natsu had never cared, let alone been able to untangle the mess and figure out who was related by blood and who wasn’t. If growing up with the sounds of bloodshed as their lullaby and old-time gunpowder in their lungs had taught them anything, family _was_ family, blood or not.

“It’s okay,” Levy reassured them with that small, gentle smile of hers. “You don’t need to talk anymore, I understand. All is alrig— oh, look! The light turned green!”

There was a tug on their arm, and they were off, stumbling across the asphalt at a brisk pace. Levy almost tripped when they reached the sidewalk on their other side, but Natsu managed to keep her upright, holding onto her arm so she won’t topple over. She beamed up at them in gratitude, her whole face shining with that smile. Not for the first time that day, Natsu’s stomach did a flip.

_ (They were so, so fucking dead.) _

At last, they reached the cafe Erza loved so much—a quaint, peaceful place just across the river from “The Dragon’s Scale”. The staff already knew Natsu and their cousins as if they were family, so by the time they made their way under the umbrellas in the late summer sun, a table outside already prepared and a menu laid in the middle of it. Natsu waved at the waitress as she headed back inside to probably bring their usual order.

“You come here often, I suppose?” Levy commented as she graciously lowered herself in the chair that faced away from the street and smoothed her long skirt over her knees. Her linen purse—the very same purse they were ready to bet their whole collection of cat photos was spelled to be bottomless—rested innocently on her lap. “The staff knows you.”

“My cousin loves the strawberry cheesecake they make here,” Natsu explained with a smile and folded their legs. “It’s not very far from where we live, either, so she often bullies me into getting her some. If I have to be honest, it’s quite useful when she’s mad at me, too!”

Levy giggled, then made an attempt to politely hide it in her hand and promptly failed. 

The two of them talked easily as they enjoyed their little lunch. (Levy had shyly ordered a creme caramel while Natsu feasted on their favorite chocolate monstrosity. Their faulty memory had not failed them, after all—even in this different life, she had kept that sugar tooth of hers. They did make sure to order a slice of strawberry cheesecake for Erza, though. They wanted to live enough to see the dumb idea blooming into their head come to fruition.)

Meeting her eyes hurt. There was something so utterly… Not wrong, not exactly, but just… _off_. She looked just a bit different than they remembered—it was as if peering into an old, faded photograph. But there were the soft curls they’d tried to braid as a hatchling—sun-kissed blue rather than caramel brown, but still her. There were the same freckles, smattered over dark brown skin—smooth and pristine rather than scarred, but still her. There were the same eyes of molten gold—shy and more subdued than they remembered, but… 

But it was still _her_ , and that was what mattered the most. 

It felt strange, suddenly being pushed to act as the elder when they were used to being the child in this relationship, seeing the person who had looked after them for years acting as if she barely knew them. Try as they might, though, Natsu couldn’t stop the warmth from filling their chest or the smile from pulling on their mouth.

“What’s the matter?” Levy asked after some time, sipping what was probably her second vanilla latte in a row.

(She really, _really_ seemed to like coffee. Natsu couldn’t agree with her more.)

“Hmm?” Natsu looked up, caught twirling the loose strings at the hem of their white scarf.

“There’s something that’s bothering you,” she said softly, tilting her head in that peculiar, bird-like manner of hers. “And please, even if you don’t want to tell me what it is… Don’t say no. I can see it written all over your face.”

“You’re real good at reading people, you know?” they replied with a small laugh, brushing back the hair that had fallen into their eyes. She’d always been good at reading through them, try as they might lie. “I… I will tell you. But first, you must promise to not run away.”

Levy regarded them with a careful expression, her eyebrows knitting together, but nodded and put down her cup. 

“You’re a secondborn,” Natsu began, leaning forward to mimic her pose and resting their chin on the cushion of their hands. When her eyes widened in horror and she reached down to grip the corner of her shawl, they winced. “Before you ask, yeah. I saw the scars.”

“... is that it?” Levy asked quietly. Despite the brightly shining sun and the warm air around them, she seemed to fold as she curled up into the chair, shivering, trying to look smaller. “You’re disturbed because I was— because I was dead? Because I’m not supposed to be here?”

“No!” They reached out and gripped her hand, startling her. Still, Natsu didn’t loosen their hold. There, under the white wristband and the soft fabric of her sleeve, they saw a jagged golden line drawn crudely over her otherwise unblemished skin, matching the one they’d seen before on her neck. “I swear to hell, it’s nothing of that! _Please_ , listen to me...”

Levy peered at them through her thick lashes. Natsu’s heart broke at the fear written over her face, at the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. They gently dragged their fingers up her shaking hand, up the length of her arm and over the sheer fabric of her sleeves, tracing painfully familiar silver swirls engraved into her skin, just as they’d done multiple times back when they’d been on the cusp of their third ring, before everything went wrong. 

“I knew you,” Natsu whispered, their voice breaking under the force of their emotion. They own hands had begun to shake, tears clouding their face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, _I know you._ You have no idea how much I missed you, how much I want to hold you right now and never let you go and maybe even fucking cry and I’m rambling again and— ”

A small sob slipped from her mouth. Before they could respond, Levy threw herself into them and wrapped her arms around them, holding them tightly, her blunt nails digging into their shoulder.

Natsu let out a watery sigh and enveloped her into their shaking hold, burying their face into the warm crook of her neck. Her soft curls tickled their nose, her breath warm against their skin, her shaking fingers gripping them as if they were her lifeline. She smelled like vanilla and honey and — and home. 

If Levy noticed it when their tears soaked into her shawl, she either didn’t mind or didn’t bother to tell them.

* * *

“You didn’t have to walk me home, you know,” Levy whispered as they headed down the street to her apartment building together, her hand still resting lightly on the inside of their elbow.

Natsu snorted and blew a raspberry in the air, smiling when it made her laugh and then hiccup softly.

“Please. I made you cry in the middle of this amazing day, in public no less—awfully ungentlepersonlike of me, don’t you think? The least I can do is escort you to your humble abode.” They nudged her gently. “I also need to know how to get there next time.”

“Won’t you get lost? Magnolia is a big city.”

“Dragons have an amazing sense of navigation,” Natsu promptly lied. “I will find my way just fine once I know where it is, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you, but I don’t have enough information to disprove it,” Levy amended with a small shrug. “I’m still a bit worried, though. I just… I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

“We’ve met just a couple hours ago and you’re back on babysitter mode so quickly!” Natsu bemoaned in mock-horror. “What is with y’all people and trying to mom me?”

“You radiate a kind of irresponsible energy that awakens people’s parental instincts?” Levy suggested, then giggled into her hand.

Natsu couldn’t help but smile. Some of the tension from the day had seemed to melt away from her shoulders and even as she kept staring at them with wonder, they couldn’t bring themself to say a single word about. There was something so heartwarming in the joy that sparkled in her eyes, in the softness of their smile—how could someone be so sweet, so precious?

At last, they reached the doors of her apartment building. Levy sighed softly and dug into her bottomless purse, rummaging for what was probably her keys.

“So,” she said softly, one hand on the door handle, “are you sure he’d want to meet me?”

_ Oh, sister, he’s gonna crawl through hell and back just for a glimpse of you. _

“One hundred percent positive,” Natsu assured her, squeezing her shoulder. Then, they frowned. “Why ask? Don’t you want to meet him? I mean, Gajeel isn’t the best out there and there are some fish in the sea that definitely smell better than him, but I swear he’s not that bad!”

Levy laughed, a small and airy sound, then stared down at her feet. 

“It’s not that, ”she whispered, her fingers running over the silver spirals that stretched over the length of her left arm, tracing them with the tips of her nails. “I’m just… what if I’m not what he remembers? What if I disappoint him and break his heart once again? I’m not the same person. I’m not what I used to be… whatever that was.”

Her words hit them hard, slamming at them like a truck. Natsu had no answer for her fears. They’d hoped—they’d wished so _hard_ —that she could remember, ever a little. And yet, judging by what she’d told them, all she had were vague and confusing glimpses, those wretched visions that tortured her every waking moment and disturbing nightmares that rarely let her catch a full night’s sleep. 

She might have looked the same, walked the same, talked the same, but she _was_ not the same, and it burned their heart to realize it.

“I’m sure everything’s gonna be alright,” they tried to reassure her, but their voice sounded hollow to even to their own ears. With a sigh, they leaned into her and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, hey, relax. I have a good feeling about this.”

Levy nodded and gave them a shaky smile.

“O-okay. I will just— I will just go home now. I need to shower, scream around a little and maybe curl in my bed to cry. Just a little bit.”

Natsu gave a small chuckle, then nodded and stayed outside to watch her climb up the stairs. Only when the sound of her steps disappeared into the distance, they allowed themself to leave.

They, too, wanted to scream and cry a little. 

* * *

The shop was—as it always seemed to be when they came in—almost empty. Erza immediately shot up when she saw them, apologizing to the customer she was entertaining in a very unErzaline manner, before she looked over to them.

“You’re late,” she told them, crossing her arms over chest. 

“I met someone,” Natsu said with a shrug. Then, they held up the small bag of strawberry cheesecake that still hung from their wrist. “I also brought you cake.”

Erza’s frown melted off in less that a second and a small smile curled the corner of her mouth. ( _And people say bribes bring you nowhere._ ) She graciously accepted the offered gift and stashed it somewhere under the register, where she kept various other bribes and the souls of the poor mortal men who uselessly fell for her charms, then turned back to face the customer. 

Natsu didn’t bother to understand what exactly they were talking about, but watched the conversation with interest. Apparently, the customer—a witch?—had lost his dog somehow ( _how do you even lose a familiar?_ ) and needed help fixing its collar. 

The witch was, (for the lack of other words, mind you,) pretty. Very… very pretty. Natsu shook their head at the childish observation, heat rising up to their ears. The day had been way too long and they definitely didn’t need to think how exhausted they must have been. People watching wasn’t really their thing. 

“Natsu?” Erza called, pulling their attention. “Can you bring one of the boxes with seals?”

“Got it, boss!” they called, eager to do something and just stop overthinking the stupid situation they’d gotten themself into.

When they returned from the storage approximately two minutes later, the box with seals resting in their arms, they found the witch slumped over the register and Erza gently patting his back. 

“I’m sure your pup will be alright,” Natsu tried to reassure them and squeezed their shoulder. Electricity shot up their fingers at the contact and for a moment, they were completely stunned, heat blooming somewhere deep in their chest.

“She’s been gone for days now,” the witch muttered, rubbing at his face. 

Natsu hummed in answer and carefully unloaded the box onto the counter, then offered the witch a small smile.

“Hey, don’t make that blue face. She’s a magic pupper, isn’t she? Those don’t get in trouble easily.” They knocked their shoulder into him lightly, enough to shake him off the counter. “And! Once we get that collar fixed up, I’m gonna help you find her. Does that sound good to you?”

The witch gave them a weak smile and nodded, then turned their attention towards the seals and started rummaging through them like a man on a mission. Natsu had the odd, peculiar desire to hang around and talk a little bit more with this stranger, but they were drained and they really needed to curl up and cry. So, they gave Erza a small nod and headed up the stairs to the living part of the building.

Erza gave them a smile in return and if there was truly a glint of _something_ in her eyes, Natsu wisely chose to ignore it.

They found Gajeel sitting by what must have been the most disorganized coffee table in the entire world, tinkering with some kind of shiny crystal in his hands. Many years before, Natsu had given up on trying to understand their cousin’s weird habits and his craft and had stuck to just observing.

“Heya, mom,” they greeted, leaning against the back of the couch. “How’s it? Trying to harness the power of the sun again?”

“Hello, bane of my existence,” Gajeel greeted back, not even bothering to look up from his work. The floor must have been quite comfy for him to prefer it over the couch. “And that’s only happened three times.”

“Five and I’m still counting,” Natsu corrected him, then smiled. “I have some news for you.”

“Spill, then. Unlike a certain couchsurfing idiot I happen to know, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

“Oooh, you do love me!” they teased. Then, their smile fell off. “First I gotta make sure you’re okay with hearing it now, though.”

That seemed to pique his interest, because Gajeel finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. There was a smear of… _something_ on his cheek. Natsu thought it was machine oil. Natsu _hoped_ it was machine oil.

“What did you do?” he asked, managing to sound both exasperated and worried in the same tone. Truly, something only mothers could do. “Did you set something on fire again?”

“You insult me,” they gasped, touching their heart. “You know I only burn stuff once a week, and I already got to that rope back on Monday morning.”

“Natsu.”

“I mean, the rope did deserve it— ”

“ _Natsu_. Get over with these news.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um. _Uhhhhh_.” Natsu gave him a nervous smile and scratched the back of their neck. They sighed, for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. _Well, fuck. There goes nothing._ “I met your reborn soulmate at therapy today. Levy sends you a hello and an invite to have some tea together on Friday.”

Gajeel stared at them, disbelief written all over his face. Then, he fell back into the couch, the cushions softening his fall.

Natsu groaned.

“I thought he might faint, but that’s too dramatic even for him.”

With a soft grunt, they knelt down by their cousin’s side and tried to wake him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: mira finally gets a proper introduction ft. gajeel being a fool 
> 
> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!
> 
> please, stay safe and don't let this quarantine get to you. i won't stop updating any time soon! if you want to, come send me a message on tumblr/twitter, i'd love to make some new friends. 
> 
> i love you all!
> 
> p.s.: i'm still looking for a beta  
> p.p.s: no, erza does not charm useless mortal men, it was only a joke. not that she can't if decides she wants, she's decided that humans are too much of a hassle to ever try working with.


	4. GAJEEL I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gajeel is losing his shit left and right. Mira tries to be a good friend. Levy is cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: gajeel trying to get drunk and a little bit of blood i guess?
> 
> word count: about 6200
> 
> this bitch is thirteen pages and half long. 
> 
> you're welcome

For the first time in approximately four centuries, Gajeel wanted to get absolutely wasted.

Well, it was either that, or just lie facedown on his bed, cry for a couple of hours like the pathetic piece of shit he was and then contemplate what the fuck he did in this or his previous life to warrant such cruel punishment. Then again, the idea of getting dead drunk seemed much more attractive to his grief-ridden brain, especially since it meant it would get him out of the suddenly unbearable house and away from his cousins’ concerned looks. 

And… it wasn’t like he’d never considered rebirth as a possibility. It wasn’t like he’d never thought of that—that maybe somewhere, out there in this goddamn world, existed even the slightest chance for Fate to decide to push them back together. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent hours begging and praying and hoping for a _single_ answer, for something to take this horrible pain away, to fill the empty hole in his chest where his heart once stood.

The thing was… He’d never thought it would _actually_ happen. And now he was absolutely losing his shit.

So, at barely ten on a Wednesday night, Gajeel found himself standing at the threshold of the closest bar just on the other side of the river from the family shop. Throwing any reason out of the window with a bleak kind of determination boiling in his gut, he walked in, sat down at the bar and buried his face in his hands with a muffled groan.

“Tough day?” asked the bartender, light steps tapping against the floor. 

Gajeel grunted, not even bothering to look up.

“Well, then… is there something I can get you to try to numb that pain?”

“Whiskey will do,” he muttered, cracking a single eye open. “The strongest you have, please.”

The bartender gave him a mildly miffed look, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised at him. Then they shrugged, their long pale hair bouncing with the motion, and without another word began rummaging through the cluttered shelves. Not long after they produced a large bottle, old and dusty and faded, and laid it on the counter.

“That might work.” 

If possible, at the sound of his words the bartender looked even less impressed with him than before.

“You know,” they spoke softly, eyeing him cautiously while searching for something to open the bottle with, “whatever is bothering you… I sincerely doubt the alcohol will do you any good.”

“But it can make me forget,” Gajeel said, smiling a joyless smile.

“For an hour or so, maybe.” The bartender finally managed to open the probably ancient bottle and quickly filled the glass, all the way up to the rim. Then they pushed it across the counter. “A nap might help you more.”

“Wanted to get out of the house.” He picked the glass and drank half of it in one swing. It left a burning path as it poured down his throat. He closed his eyes and savored the mild pain. Let it burn away, lest the wounds he’d tried to close for so long festered again. “Are all bartenders required to listen to their patrons’ fucked up drunken stories?”

“It’s part of the job description,” the bartender said with a small smile, then leaned lightly against the counter, resting their chin on their cupped hands. “You don’t look like the kind that gets drunk easily. Otherwise, you would have asked for something…” they looked to the dusty bottle again and made a face, “weaker.”

“You got me there.” Gajeel let out a mirthless laugh. “Why bother to talk with me, then, if I’m not gonna provide you with an entertaining story?”

“You look as if you need someone to talk to,” they said with a peculiar, faraway look in their eyes, then gently beckoned him to speak.

Gajeel groaned, then downed the rest of his glass. Not for the first time in his life, he bemoaned the fact he could never be able to get drunk for real, try as he might. Stupid dragon resistances and whatnot. Ugh.

“I’m Mira, by the way,” the bartender introduced themself, then took his glass and refilled it without him asking for it. So much for alcohol not solving his problems, hm? “I have the feeling we are going to become good friends tonight, you and I.”

“Gajeel.”

“Pleasure making acquaintance with you, Gajeel.”

“Don’t you have any other customers to serve?” Gajeel asked, eagerly accepting the glass.

“Oh, I almost _forgot_! My, my, just look at just how _swamped_ it is!” There were no other people in the bar, save for some old man huddled in the far corner and muttering something about aliens and sheep. Mira gave him a bright smile, showing more teeth than a human would. “It’s past ten on a weekday, dearie. Regular people are safe in their homes by now—it’s only poor souls like you still wandering the streets.”

“Harsh.”

“I speak what I see,” she said with a shrug, then gestured to him. “So, new friend… Spill the tea.”

“The love of my life is alive,” he began.

* * *

Four glasses later and an hour and a half into his crappy soap opera of a life, the sweet buzz of the alcohol still evaded him. The whiskey scorched his throat in a feeble attempt to soothe his pain. Feeble or not, Gajeel greatly appreciated that attempt.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Mira said when he finished, her voice somber. “Here, have one more. On me.”

“I didn’t tell you the story of my life to get free alcohol.” 

Mira gave him that peculiar look of hers. Gajeel picked the glass and took a generous swing.

“That’s more like it, hmm?”

“No one says no to free alcohol,” he mused out loud.

“Surely one of the many faults of civilization,” she agreed.

Gajeel hummed and sipped his whiskey. Mira smiled sadly and patted his shoulder awkwardly. For someone who’d been watching him spew his guts for the past hour or so, she seemed unusually calm, even serene, with that same odd, faraway look he sometimes saw on Natsu’s face when the topic of parents came up. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked after a while. She’d started washing the dishes, turning on the tap so the warm water would soak all the used glasses gathered in the rather spacious sink. “With your… ah, _problem_?”

“What do you mean?” Gajeel ran his finger over the rim of his glass. His vision grew blurry at the edges, enough to make him squint in order to see her clearly. Maybe the whiskey finally kicked in?

“Are you going to… You know, to see her? Or you want to stay away?” 

Laughter bubbled in his chest—the kind of hysterical laughter that came to you only when on the verge of crying. Tears clouded his vision. For a moment, Gajeel didn’t know if the alcohol was what brought him to tears or he’d grown so out of control he was going to cry in front of someone he met not even two hours ago.

“Trust me, new friend… There’s nothing in the goddamn world I want more than to see her again.”

Mira regarded him with a look he was too out of it to read, concern written over her face. 

“If that’s so, then… What is the problem?” she asked, lowering the glass she held in her hands.

“What’s the problem? What’s the _problem_?! Take a fucking gander at me!” Gajeel threw his hands in the air and managed to knock an empty glass off the counter in his dramatic act. Fortunately, he caught it before it fell to the ground. Unfortunately, it broke his momentum and he promptly slumped on the smooth wooden surface, tears slowly rolling down his face. “I’m a fucking wreck. It’s been more than five hundred years and I’m still not over her, Mira. And I’m just… sitting here and trying to get fucking drunk out of my mind so I can try and fail to forget her and playing fucking stories with a stranger instead of going home and sitting down like the actual functioning adult person I’m supposed to be and actually putting my brain to use.” He let out a sad chuckle, all the anger gone from him and replaced with grief and the dark desire to beat himself into a bloody pulp. His voice broke, sobs making his shoulders shake. “I’m the reason she died… The reason she’s gone. I hurt her… Fuck, I hurt over and over again and she still stood by my side until the fucking end. I dragged her into my bloody messes. I killed her. I killed her!”

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt tears, terrible hot tears, dripping down his chin. As if something had shoved a lump of guilt down his throat. He couldn’t breathe, choking on his own words. 

Mira said nothing for a while, staring at a point somewhere above his shoulder. Her hands—the only part of her he could see clearly—seemed to shake with some unwanted emotion. At last, she pushed a box of tissues over the counter. Not a moment, a glass of water joined it.

Gajeel wiped the snot and tears away and blew his nose into the tissues, then took the water in small sips. His fingers wobbled so hard he had to wrap both hands around the glass in order to not drop it. Even then, a few droplets slipped past his lips.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for what you feel,” Mira said after a while. She hesitated at first, her fingers hovering over his arm, before she gently gripped it. “You _didn’t_ kill her.”

“I might as well have.” Gajeel didn’t pull away. She might have not been family, but she was kind enough to him. “I watched her die. I held her in my arms as she died, watched her lifeblood drip out of her and paint everything red.” He hiccuped. “She… She shouldn’t have forgiven me. Should have left me to live and die with that guilt.”

Mira hummed softly, her fingers running lightly over his arm and tracing the jagged scars that covered the bulk of it. Her touch felt oddly comforting. Her voice carried a gentle, soothing caress to it, a melody he’d heard somewhere but couldn’t recognize. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize she’d laced some Song into it, for the tension in his shoulders dispersed and his tears finally dried.

“The war was a cruel and hungry monster,” she said, lightly resting her palm against his scarred skin. “Stop blaming yourself. You might have made some mistakes, sure, but you shouldn’t allow for your pain to fester and poison you.”

“You talk as if you’ve been there.” Gajeel handed the empty water glass back and rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. “... have you?”

“I have,” Mira confirmed. 

When she didn’t elaborate further, he mimicked her beckoning gesture, a weak copy of her gracious movement. A sad smile came to rest on her lips. Still, she spoke.

“You might have known me as the Demon Sitri—that was my name, years ago. I’ve done many evil deeds and I’m not proud of them. I was a different person, back then. Not the good kind of person.” Her voice wobbled. “I… I don’t want to think of the things I’ve done. If that’s alright with you.”

“No one does.” Gajeel gave her half a grin. His mind, still soaked with guilt and whiskey, assimilated the new information slowly. He could remember the so-called Sitri, if vaguely—a merciless murder machine who left carnage and destruction to everything that fell in front of her bloody gaze. “I’ve never had the chance to see you on the battlefield and I doubt I’d ever want to.”

“A smart choice.” 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, though.”

“Is that so?” Mira laughed softly. “Only bad things, I hope.”

“Here and there.” He shrugged. “You’re not half bad, Miss Demon.”

The fake smile she’d plastered on her face disappeared, leaving an expression of shock on that too pretty face.

“You… _don’t_ … hate me?” Mira asked slowly, as if she’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. 

“Isn’t hate too strong of a word?”

“...”

”The war was a lifetime ago,” Gajeel said, echoing her words. “I mean, all the whiskey might be numbing me a little, but…” He grinned. “I’m like, ninety percent sure I don’t hate you.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“The other ten percent wants more water. Please.”

Mira laughed so hard her shoulders shook with the motion, as if him adding ‘ _please_ ’ was the most hilarious joke she’d ever heard, then grabbed the glass he’d left and turned on the tap. Gajeel watched her, resting his head on his arm. His mind was almost completely clear again. Curious, he ran his eyes over the smooth dark lines that covered all of her left arm and disappeared somewhere under her clothes. They felt oddly... Familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger where he’d seen them before.

“Thanks,” he said as he took the glass again, their fingers touching over the rim. Her skin was almost cold to touch. “Can I take a look at your arm?”

Mira gave that same odd, thoroughly unimpressed look, her lips flattening on a thin line. Still, she stretched out her arm with some unworldly kind of grace in the simple movement, her fingers hanging an inch or so in front of his face. Gajeel trailed his eyes over the smooth lines and shapes drawn onto her unblemished skin, the bloody familiar shade of red that seemed to blaze like the rising sun. Laughter—the genuine kind of laughter, filled with so much joy and mirth and hope—bubbled in his chest and he fell against the counter, clutching his stomach.

“What’s _so_ funny about my soulmark?” Mira asked with her voice so dry it made him laugh even harder.

“Nothin’,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eyes.

When the wariness in her gaze didn’t disappear and she poked his arm, he did his best to control the wild burst of hysterical joy in his heart. Oh god, what a story all of this would one day be.

“So,” Gajeel began with the air of mock-innocence in his tone, “I suppose you’ve heard of Erza Belserion back in the day?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“True!” He grinned. “I mean, who doesn’t know that fierce, stubborn ass of a green girl who picked the Dragon Clan from the rubble? Who trained her soldiers herself and single-handedly led armies to triumphant victory?” 

“Gajeel, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking— ”

“Y’know, that fucking horrible idiot you fought against in the war— ”

“Yes, I do know _of_ her, but what does she have to do with— ”

“ — and the one I served?” He almost laughed again. “She’s yours. _All_ yours. Congratulations.”

Mira was still staring at the nothingness somewhere behind his shoulder, her eyes grown so large for a moment he thought they might pop out of their sockets. She began muttering to herself in a language he didn’t recognize, pacing back and forth behind the counter and tugging on her perfectly smoothened hair with her perfectly painted nails in some sort of inhuman madness.

Gajeel took another sip of his water. Somehow, the idea that someone else was losing their shit just as much as he was felt oddly calming.

Now... Only if he could be brave enough to face Levy. That would be _great_.

* * *

“Stop doing that,” Natsu scolded firmly.

“Doing what?”

They snorted and kicked a stray rock on the street.

“You look as if you’re about to meet Death herself and you’re kinda resigned to it.”

“That’s kind of the point, idiot,” Gajeel said with a roll of his eyes.

Call him a fucking coward, but he was _afraid_. He wanted to go home.

Natsu growled in a manner that distinctly reminded him of the tantrums they used to throw back then when they barely went up to his waist and threw their hands in the air, as if asking the gods above just how they got saddled with him. Throwing him another disappointed ( _fuck you too, kid_ ) look, they marched some feet ahead of, their shoulders set firm with a kind of peculiar determination. 

Gajeel sighed— _spirits, where did I go wrong with this kid?_ —and followed them, ignoring their fuming and quiet cursing.

And he’d thought they’d long gotten past their edgy phase.

“Natsu?” he called after some time later.

“Hmm?”

“Chill. The fuck. _Out_.” He squeezed their shoulder firmly and pulled them back when they almost ran into a parked car. “You’re gonna start burning again and I refuse to buy you new shoes. Again.”

“I’m perfectly chill.” Their childish pout said the opposite, but perhaps it was wiser to not mention it. “You're a horrible piece of shit, you know that?”

“Been told that once or twice.”

Natsu let out a long-suffering groan and shook their head, then kept marching ahead. 

_When did that child get so dramatic?_

Soon enough they reached what Natsu claimed to be their destination—a tall cream-colored building just across the street and then a bit down—and stopped to wait out the light. Gajeel fidgeted with the small package he’d brought as a sort of gift, trying to stop the violent shake of his hands—the night before he’d convinced Erza to help him bake some chocolate chip cookies, then stayed up to wrap them as nicely as physically possible. He wasn’t the kind of person for useless politeness, but it seemed only right to bring a gift when visiting someone’s house. 

Not to mention the fact Levy had a sweet tooth. Nothing could ever change _that_. Not even rebirth. 

The light turned green and Natsu grabbed his elbow before he could even try to run away. (... Not that he was thinking of it.) They joined the small throng of passersby crossing the street and were almost on the other side when a distinct, familiar sound reached his ears. Gajeel stopped mid-step and turned his head, cursing loudly when he noticed a small motorcycle coming their way.

He did the only thing any barely self-respectable big sibling would and roughly shoved Natsu, as well as the small group of the children in front of them, out of the motorcycle’s way. Fortunately, he managed to get to the sidewalk in time and not get hit.

Unfortunately, in the process of reaching the sidewalk, his momentum pushed him forward—and, in his pathetic attempt to regain his lost balance, Gajeel ran face-first into a street lamp like the fucking idiot he was. He let out a load of curses as blood—blood..?—dripped into his eyes and reached out for something to lean into, but fell on the ground, his head hitting the pavement with a horrible sound. The sound of someone—Natsu, that sounded like Natsu—calling his name reached his ears— 

Then, his vision went black.

* * *

Pale light filtering through sheer curtains and showering his face with golden warmth. Soft voices speaking, coming to him as if through thick fog.

“ —ure he’s gonna be fine?”

“It’s just a minor concussion, nothing else. It’s all going to be alright. It might give him headaches for a while, but nothing scary. He will be back on his feet in no time, especially at the rate your guys heal.”

“I’m just… worried, I guess.”

“He will be okay. I promise.”

Gajeel groaned and brought his hands to his temples. Pain shot through his body, centering into a spot somewhere just above his left eye. Everything hurt so much. His ears rang, his eyes misted. He felt like throwing up, bile rose up his throat. He dared not open his eyes and hissed when the pain grew stronger, curling himself into a ball. It wrapped around him like a thick blanket, suffocated him, tore his nerves apart.

Feather-light steps. A shaky breath. Someone standing above him, kneeling by him, the light smell of lavender invading his senses. Two hands, small and cool, came to his temples, covering his own, brushing his taunt skin. There a soft hum and then— Immediately, a sense of utter calmness settled into the very core of his bones. The hands moved up to his forehead, gently stroking him and brushing his hair away from his clammy skin. With every second, every brush of those small, cool hands, the throbbing slowly dispersed until he could barely notice it, the acid in his throat going away

When Gajeel felt strong enough to hold his own, he slowly opened his eyes. Above him, a vision of light smiled, warmth and joy radiating from every pore of her being. 

“Hello,” she spoke slowly, bringing one hand to brush a lock of damp hair from his cheek and then gently tuck it behind his horn. The chill of her fingers was a balm to his burning skin. “Can you hear me?”

“By the spirits, yes,” he said, his voice weak. “Please, don’t stop talking, never stop talking.”

She blinked owlishly at him, confusion written over that ungodly beautiful face. Then, she broke into giggles, covering her mouth with one of her hands in a not very successful attempt to hide it. Despite himself, Gajeel felt a smile pulling on the edge of his mouth. Using his hands for support, he tried to sit up. Nausea settled his stomach almost immediately, making him greet his teeth, but he gripped the smooth cover under him. He wanted to hear more of that laughter, that beautiful bell-like ring of her voice— 

“No, you must rest!” the blue-haired vision cried softly, then gently guided him back on the bedding. He didn’t protest—not when instead of putting his head down on the cushion it’d occupied just moments before, she laid it on her lap, her fingers running over his face and into his loose hair. Had she undone his braid while he was unconscious? Her touch worked its magic over him and the nausea disappeared. He wanted to purr, to curl up in her feet and never let go. “Here. Is that better?”

“Perfect.” Clumsily, he reached up and took one of her hands. They were small, smaller than his own, so small he could hold them both in one of his, with long, slender fingers, her nails painted into the color of cotton candy. “Just _perfect_.”

* * *

It took about half an hour—half an hour of his head nestled into her lap and purring like a cat as she ran her fingers through his hair and worked her healing magic on him—for Gajeel to get back to his senses.

He didn’t know if the embarrassment of being so weak and vulnerable in front of her outweighed the unadulterated joy of simply sitting with her, talking with her, _seeing_ her. She was there—her soft, soothing voice wrapping around him, her delicate scent that had nothing to do with her lavender perfume filling his lungs with peace, her radiant smile chasing away the darkness of his heart.

To her credit, Levy was nothing but kind to him, watching him wonder written over her beautiful face. Every once in a while, she would reach out and touch him—run her fingers over his arm, brush their hands together, rest her palm on his brow—as if to confirm he was there, to remind her he was _real_.

To be fair... Gajeel couldn’t deny he was doing exactly the same thing, unable to tear his eyes away from her shining form, lest she disappeared before him. (Just like she’d done in all those horrible dreams that haunted him for years, dreams that still came to visit him every once in a while.) So, he sat as close as she allowed him, his knees gently brushing her thigh every time she moved, and soaked into the warmth of her presence.

“You two are gross,” Natsu called from where they had barricaded themself into the kitchen, probably raiding the poor girl’s fridge. 

“Kindly fuck off,” Gajeel said.

At the same time, Levy squeaked, her small hands covering her mouth once the sound left her lips, her ears burning red.

(She _squeaked_. It was so cute.)

Ignoring whatever other stupid things his cousin might have said, ( _really, kid, you were the one who dragged me here in the first place!_ ) Gajeel turned to face the goddess on his side.

“Thank you for patching me up,” he said, lightly scratching the back of his head. Bandages were wrapped snugly around the area where his head had collided with the pavement. “And for… For taking care of me. We don't know each, you didn’t have to— ”

Levy pressed her finger to his mouth, successfully silencing him as an almost playful smile graced her lush lips. Why was he staring into her lips? 

“There is no need to thank me,” Levy reassured him, so close he could count the freckles dusted over her brown skin. Her smile dimmed. “When Natsu brought you here, unconscious and bleeding, I was… For a moment, I was terrified. For a moment, I thought— ” Something caught in her throat and she shook her head, her hair bouncing with the motion. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes— but no, that was just an illusion of the light, there was no way she would cry for someone like him. “But then you muttered some gibberish and collapsed onto my couch and— And you were okay.”

She laughed and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. Then, she sniffed softly. Fuck, fuck, she’d actually started crying.

“How are you now?” she asked finally, her hand hovering over his for just a second before she pulled away.

_(Does she want to… hold my hand?)_

“I feel good.” Still a bit dizzy, maybe—although that might have been just a side effect of, _you know,_ existing in the same general vicinity as the love of his life for the first time in the last five or so centuries?—and he was pretty sure those headaches were going to haunt him for at least a week. But he was okay. More than just okay. “Just…”

“Just what?”

“Dunno. Kinda bummed I made a bad first impression again, though.”

“I won’t call it ba— Wait.” Levy gave him a puzzled look, her small fingers curling in the smooth fabric of her skirt. “What do you mean by _again_?”

Gajeel groaned.

“I would ask you to not laugh, but it’s pathetic as fuck.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

“It is!” Natsu piped from the kitchen.

“Shut up or I will tell her about the time you set her skirt on fire!”

“I already embarrassed myself enough, there’s no way her opinion of me can go any lower!”

Gajeel sent a very unsightly finger gesture to the general direction of the kitchen, then turned to face Levy, who seemed to be following that interaction with keen interest.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no, all is alright!” she said with a smile. 

“Uh. Where was I?”

“The first time you supposedly made a bad impression?”

His ears grew red hot at the sight of her shy smile. Fuck him with an overripe cactus, why not?

“So. Fuck.” He ran one hand through his hair, mindful to not pull on the light stitches just beside his left horn. “The first time around. Uh. I passed out on the battlefield, like the fucking idiot I was. Taking a hit for my at the time commander or something? I don’t remember. But then— then, I woke up to the most beautiful girl in the world standing above him and yelling at me for being an absolute, lost cause of a dumbass.” 

A small, fond smile came to his face. He hadn’t thought of that once precious memory in so long, having buried himself in work and then lost in the anxiety and excitement of meeting her again. It took him a moment to remember it all—the annoyance written all over her face, the way she’d puffed her cheeks and scolded him, the utter horror once she’d realized it was him she was talking to and then how she’d promptly ran out of the tent while yelling embarrassed, barely legible excuses. 

The Levy in front of him averted her gaze, a light dusting of red coloring her cheeks, and all thoughts of long-lost memory and the smell of an infirmary tent went out of his mind, replaced with the sight of sun-kissed blue curls and eyes of molten gold, of pale freckles on dark skin, a shy smile hidden under soft, cool hands.

It took him a good two minutes to find his voice again.

“To be fair.” Gajeel coughed softly, willing the heat in his ears to disappear. “I was kind of an idiot. So I wholeheartedly agree with the whole yelling part. But then you ran away and left me staring at the tent wall and wondering what divine angel had decided to visit me amidst the throes of my pain.”

“Is… is that so?” she asked softly, tilting her head to meet his eyes.

“Mhm. Then I tried to chase you, but I got tangled into the bedding sheets and fell down on my face.” He rubbed his forehead, distinctly remembering how exactly it felt to fall on his stupid face. “Waking up every single person in that tent, might I add, and getting an earful from my commander. Ugh.” He shuddered. His first commander had been a dick. _That’s what happens when you work with family._ “I suppose I am a lost cause of dumbass, after all.”

Whether it was his story or the fear probably written over his face at the memory of uncle Acnologia’s brutal training regime, it made Levy laugh again. The sound seemed to resonate through her entire body and she curled up, clutching her stomach. The soft sunlight filtering through the living room’s windows made her glow with some kind of unworldly, divine light. She tried to suppress her laughter, one hand clamped over her mouth, but it only caused her eyes to water, tears of mirth gathering on her lashes. She looked at him, her chest heaving and her cheeks red, and gave him the most radiant smile in the world.

Gajeel smiled back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such joy for something as simple, something as little as watching someone laugh.

Oh.

_Oh._

So that’s how you fall in love.

By the time she’d stopped laughing, his heart had begun to hammer against his chest, each thump making him shiver to the core of his being.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Levy whispered softly, tucking one of her curls behind her ear. He itched to touch it, run his fingers through the blue of her hair and feel the softness of it against his skin. He itched to gather her into his arms and kiss her, feel the beat of her heart against his ear, taste the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue. “I think—I think you’re pretty neat, Gajeel.”

He was in love.

His lips twitched. Perhaps fate finally caught up to him. Perhaps he was feeling all the emotions he’d been bottling up for years all at once. Perhaps he’d finally gone bat-shit crazy.

Instead of wondering what the fuck was wrong with his head (answer: pretty much everything, honestly), Gajeel held his hand out with his palm facing up and waited. Levy gave him a shy smile—oh, he was so fucked—and gingerly set her hand into his. The touch sent a pleasant shiver through his whole system—first the pads of her fingers, and then gradually the rest, until her palm pressed lightly against his. He let his thumb rub the back of her hand.

They sat like that for some while, holding hands and stealing gazes at each other from the corner of their eyes, until both of them burst into laughter.

“I brought you a gift,” Gajeel said, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

When was the last time he’d smiled like this? 

“What is it?” Levy asked, scooting closer to him as if the gift would appear magically in his hands. 

Hoping against hope that the cookies hadn’t shattered in his public making a fool of himself, he dug into his pocket and pulled out the once nicely wrapped up package. Fortunately, the pretty blue ribbon still held up and the cookies looked mostly safe. 

“Chocolate chip cookies,” he explained, gently opening his cupped hands to show her the package. “A little roughened up, but I hope you like them— ”

If he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, the way her eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate had him absolutely wrecked, tumbling down the hills.

“For you, most beautiful faerie princess.”

Levy opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out. At last, once she’d confirmed that _yes_ , the cookies were real and _no_ , he wasn’t going to take them away, she reached over and snatched the prettily wrapped package, holding it to her chest as if someone (Natsu) was going to steal it from her hands. Half a minute later, when nothing happened, she carefully unwrapped the colorful foil and brought half a cookie to her mouth.

“What do you think?” Gajeel asked, growing nervous when she just stared into the nothingness after taking her first bite.

“Oh my stars, I’m going to cry,” she whispered. “They are amazing!”

As if a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. _Fuck, yes._

“Glad you like it. It’s a family recipe.” 

Gajeel watched Levy eat three cookies in quick succession before she finally had the grace to look embarrassed for her little gremlin ways and put the rest away for later. He was in love with a chocolate-loving gremlin fae. 

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her so much.

“I can bring you more,” he suggested offhandedly.

It had more than just the desired result.

“You can?” Levy asked, hope filling those beautiful eyes of hers. “ _Please_?”

Gajeel chuckled and reached out of her hand, holding it between both of his and rubbing his thumb over the white wristband that covered her wrist. Her fingers were shaking, beads of sweat coating her palm. He felt the heat of something, just beyond the innocent white wristband, but that something wasn’t his to reveal. 

Gently, making sure to not startle her, he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. _Forgive me, my love_. A part of him grew terrified she would pull away and run from him, run and never come back— The fear that’d taken hold of her when he’d first approached her scars disappeared, like the last snow under the spring sunlight. Levy let out a small, shy giggle, the tension in her shoulders melting away, and leaned close enough for him to feel her warm breath against his cheek.

“As if I’ve ever been able to say no to you,” he whispered, lips moving against her soft skin.

“You promise?” she asked, her voice low, as if she was asking for something more than for him to become her chocolate chip cookie dealer. 

_(Was she?)_

“Always,” he assured her.

Her breath brushed his lips, warm and light. Then, Levy leaned into him, her head falling into the crook of his shoulder, and dissolved into laughter. Her small hand pumped up a fist of victory. Gajeel brought one hand to the small of her back and gently ran his fingers down the line of her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin through her clothes.

Levy didn’t pull away even after she’d stopped laughing, all above bless her pure soul, but shifted in her seat so she could snuggle into his shoulder and still meet his eyes. She was smiling, that beautiful, glorious smile of hers, fearful but hopeful at the same time and so, so warm, beckoning him, calling him home, calling him to her. His hand shaking, Gajeel ran his fingers over the curve of her face and watched in reverence as she closed her eyes, leaning into his s touch. She was so small, so fragile yet so strong in his arm, she was—

She was there, she was _there_ and she was _waiting for him._

“You know,” Levy whispered, her voice honey in his ears, “I can get used to this.”

Gajeel couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t tear his eyes away even if he tried. Fate was offering him a second chance on a silver platter. 

“Me too,” he whispered back. “Me too.”

He wasn’t going to fuck up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sweat to god this chapter grew almost twice its original size in the editing process and a wise person should have cut it in half and made it two separate chapters, but i'm a dumb dumb and refused to let something as mundane as word count ruin my perfect chapter outline 
> 
> anyway, we have finally gotten into the main part of this story! the first three chapters and the first half of this one were more like, soft introduction, getting us used to the world, but starting with gajeel losing his shit left and right, we have finally entered into the deep. thank you so much for reading this behemoth of a chapter (and this long note, too!) 
> 
> next chapter: it's dog hunting time!
> 
> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!
> 
> please, stay safe and don't let this quarantine get to you. i won't stop updating any time soon! if you want to, come send me a message on tumblr/twitter, i'd love to make some new friends. 
> 
> i love you all!
> 
> i'm still looking for a beta if anyone's interested! i wanted to thank you for the many kudos you guys still keep leaving, you're awesome and i couldn't be more thankful


	5. GRAY I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Natsu go on a dog hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams*
> 
> do you believe i actually almost forgot to post this? i was like, "oh it's time to draw something!" and then i was like "wait is it still Tuesday" and well here we are 
> 
> i'm playing a game called flutter starlight and it's easily taking away all my free time rip. MOTHS ARE SO PRETTY OKAY AND IM JUST A SAD NERD
> 
> anyway, enough rambling, off to the chapter! 
> 
> word count: about 4000

For a fifth time in the very same week, Gray found himself walking into the very same small magic shop, his fingers brushing over the smooth metal handle before gripping it tightly.

Then again... “The Dragon’s Scale” was a nice shop, as far as his experience with magic shops went. The owner, a red-haired dragon lady that went by the name Erza, didn’t seem to mind his company whenever he went to check if Snowflake’s collar had finally been fixed. The opposite, really—she seemed to enjoy his visits and always put aside at least a few minutes of her probably busy schedule to chat with him. He couldn’t help but appreciate her kindness, never sought after but freely given. Whatever her hidden agenda was—for she surely had one, judging for the twinkle in her storm-gray eyes—miss Erza sensed it whenever he was down as if by magic and assured him that everything would be alright, that Snow was probably somewhere chasing magic squirrels and whatnot. It was a little thing—but it was enough, somehow, to chase his darkest fears away.

And then were the other two.

First, there was the one that worked in the back. Gray had only seen them a couple of times, in the rare moments they came out to get something or talk to Erza. At first they seemed just perpetually angry, their scarred face always bearing a scowl of some sorts, but ever since Thursday or Friday, he’d actually seen them smile. Gray still didn’t know their name, though.

And then… There was also the _other_ one. Their name was Natsu, they were loud and obnoxious and they almost broke a glass of  _ something  _ back when he was over that Friday afternoon. They had offered him comfort when he’d been on the verge of a breakdown and even suggested they would come help him find Snow once the collar was finished. 

Gray was pretty sure he also wanted to ask them on a date. Just a little bit. Maybe. They had a very cute smile. That was all. Really.

_Really_.

He pushed the door open and walked inside, the bell above his head ringing. Just like first time he visited, the shop was empty and quiet. (Erza had mentioned something about Sunday being the slowest day by a large margin and complained that no one agreed with her to just not open.) The distinct smell of mixed herbs had become familiar and almost comforting to him at this point. It was… sort of nice. Definitely better than the cold, scentless walls of his apartment, which even after five years he found hard to get used to.

“Hey,” Erza greeted him with a small nod, looking up from the leather-bound journal she was scribbling into. When she recognized him, her face lit up. “You come just in time.”

A hope thundered in his chest. Gray leaned forward, hands gripping the counter’s edge. 

“It’s done?” he asked, forgoing any polite greetings, his fingers digging firmly into the polished wood, enough to make his knuckles turn white. For a moment, he worried he might freeze his surroundings again, but fortunately no accident occurred. Yet.

Erza gave him a small but genuine smile, then bent down to (probably) retrieve something from under the counter. Once revealed, he saw it small box, the kind of boxes people used to store jewelry in, but less ornate. When she lifted the lid, he saw his precious collar laid on a black cloth cushioning inside. The leather had been mended with small pieces of what looked like silver, runes—only some of which he recognized—engraved into it to preserve the magic spelled into it. A small pendant in the shape of a dog’s paw-print had been added, with Snow’s name carved on the front side in delicate cursive and his contacts into the back. Thin silver chains adorned the dark blue leather.

“I must apologize for how long it took us to finish it,” Erza spoke quietly, leaning against the counter. The box laid between them, her fingers resting lightly over the lid. “We’ve been… kind of swamped recently, with orders and requests coming all over the place, especially that one seal batch. Usually, something as simple as this would have been done in a day or two, but— ”

“It’s fine,” Gray reassured.

Erza smiled, the tension in her shoulders disappearing, and put down the lid. Gray did his best to smile back and carefully stored the box into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I just— thank you so much. For pushing this ahead. Especially when you’ve been busy.”

Erza simply waved him off, then began rummaging in her desk for the papers on the fixed collar. She looked significantly worse for wear than the last time he’d seen her—her hair messy, the dark circles under her eyes grown darker. For a moment Gray wondered if he should ask if she was alright, but immediately stopped himself before the first word formed on his tongue. They were not friends, no matter how easy it seemed to talk to her. He couldn’t push her boundaries like that. It was none of his business.

They kept some sort of a small talk going on as they worked out the payment. Gray couldn’t help but sink into the odd sense of comfort that got to him every time he stepped through the small threshold with the ringing bell. He liked being around miss Erza and around the “The Dragon’s Scale”—it kind of saddened him that he didn’t have a believable excuse to come anymore, to hang around the nice shopkeeper and maybe banter a little with her weird cousin that seemed to do nothing but laze out on the chaise lounge and break stuff.

(Not that he paid any attention to them.)

“So,” he began, “is your cousin around?”

“Which one?”

“Natsu.” He scratched the back of his head. “You know, the… Um. The pink-haired one— ”

“I know which one of my cousins is Natsu,” Erza said, the slightest hint of tease in her voice. She was back to smiling, though, and somehow that made him want to smile back. “Why looking for them? If I may ask.”

“They kind of promised they would help me search for Snow,” Gray explained, feeling only mildly awkward.

(Ha. As if. He wanted to _die_.)

“Oh. They did do that.” Her smile grew wider. “I will go get them. Stay here for a moment.”

Erza set down her pen, then gracefully walked out from behind the counter and headed to the long, spindly stairs at the back of the shop. She climbed halfway up the stairs, then she stopped, cleared her throat as if for some sort of dramatic effect, and yelled for Natsu to come down. 

Natsu proceed to promptly almost fall down the stairs not even a minute later, gripping a pair of sneakers in one of their hands and what suspiciously looked like a half-eaten ham and cheese sandwich in the other. They looked like a horrible mess, their pale pink hair sticking out all over the place, the crazed look of a wild animal caught in the headlights in their eyes.

Gray almost smiled. It was kind of cute. In a weird, very bizarre way. He really needed a better taste.

“Hey,” he said, lifting his hand in a small greeting.

Natsu stared at him for a moment, blinking their eyes at him. Slowly, a huge smile split their face. As if a small sun had suddenly appeared in the middle of the shop.

“Heya!” they called, setting down their half-finished sandwich so they could put their shoes on. Their attempt kind of failed when they promptly fell on the ground. At least the sandwich was safe? “How’s it going?”

Gray had to hold back his amusement.

“Pretty good. Finally got the collar fixed.” He walked over to them and grabbed their arm, hoisting them up. “And you kind of promised you’d help with the search party.”

“That I did,” Natsu agreed. They were short. In an adorable way. He had the sudden urge to pinch their cheeks, like Ultear used to do to him and Lyon when they were little. “Wait, search party? Did you actually hire— ”

“I was trying to make a joke,” Gray admitted. “It’s just us. Come now. I’ve wasted too much time sitting on my ass and doing nothing. The sooner we find her, the better.”

Natsu let out a hum and quickly tucked the ties of their sneakers in, then shot out of the shop and nearly slammed in the nearest streetlight post.

Gray waved to Erza and promised to look after her cousin, then followed them outside and carefully closed the door.

* * *

They spent about an hour in fruitless search under the scorching late August sun before Natsu grabbed his arm and suggested they get some water from a nearby street vendor.

“So,” they asked as the two of them sat down on a bench overlooking one of the smaller market streets, “tell me about her. Your dog, I mean.”

Gray considered his words for a second, fingers tracing the ridges of the water bottle. It brought a pleasant chill to his skin—even after years in Magnolia, he couldn’t quite get used to the heat. In moments like this, the memory of Isvan’s light summer snows seemed almost impossible, an illusion conjured by his overheated mind.

“Snowflake isn’t really my dog in the sense of… well, a pet,” he began, staring off to the distance. A family of three was enjoying a picnic under the comfortable shade of the trees just 5 or so yards away from their bench. “That is, I didn’t adopt her from a shelter or anything. You know how some magicians have familiars?”

“So she’s like, your familiar?”

“Yeah.” He looked down at the collar, running his thumb over the smooth blue leather. “She’s really precious to me. She’s been with me for so long… Honestly, I have no idea where I would be without her. She’s basically like a family to me. The only family I have here in Fiore.”

Natsu stared at him for a long moment, blinking their dark eyes slowly as they digested his words. Up this close, Gray notice their color for the very first time—a dark, rich shade of green that matched the lush greenery around them, with speckles of hazel visible only when you really looked. Warmth crept up his neck when they leaned closer, their warm breath brushing the side of his face even so slightly.

Then, their face broke into a sunny smile.

“I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk,” they said with a small laugh. Then, they jumped up and dropped their nearly empty water bottle. Fortunately, whatever was still inside didn’t spill. “We’re all rested, so let’s go! I already have a plan to find her! Completely foolproof, too, it always works whenever I need to find someone.”

“And what is that plan?” Gray asked, unable to hold his amusement. They were… _kind_ _of_ fun to be around, he supposed, in the same way fireworks were fun—mesmerizing and unpredictable, but dangerous if you made one wrong step. “A mousetrap?”

“No, but you’re close.” They looked towards the stands that lined both side of the small streets, then towards the alley that connected it to the main market. A low hum came from the back of their throat. “Tell me again, what is Snow’s favorite treat?”

* * *

It took about another full hour and a lot of scouting around the area surrounding his neighborhood, using Snow’s collar and cut apple slices as bait, for Gray to finally notice some sort of the signal. Soft, mournful howl reached his ears, tugging at his already torn heartstrings.

Startled by the sudden discovery, Gray proceed to run into Natsu, knocking them both into the ground. They fell into a heap of tangled limbs, kicking and elbowing each other in their childish attempt to pull apart. 

“What’s the matter?” Natsu asked once they’d managed to separate, rubbing the back of their head where his flying arm had hit them.

“I heard her,” Gray whispered, eyes glued to the direction the sound had come from. He spared no thought for the grass sticking from his hair or the bruise on his side he’d received during the short fight. “She’s— she’s there.”

“You heard her?” Natsu narrowed their eyes, but seemed more confused than upset for being tackled into the wet grass. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I have better hearing and I ain’t getting anything.”

“You aren’t bonded to her, are you?” That got them to close their mouth, a touch of red spreading over their ears. “Come. I think I know where we can find her.”

Gray headed towards the place the howling seemed to originate from, right into the heart of a familiar park some ten minutes away from his building. Snow loved it when he took her on walks there after work and it quickly became one of their favorite places in the unfamiliar big city. Natsu followed close by him with their hand resting lightly against his wrist, pushing tree branches out of their way and smelling the air in a manner that reminded him of the hounds his family used to have back home. 

Soon they had to stop, the underbrush growing too thick for either of them to walk through. A small clearing surrounded them, somewhere deep into the park, with colorful leaves scattered all over the place. The tree canopy above them had grown almost impossibly thick, hiding all but the smallest beams of the sun and shrouding the clearing in shadows that spoke more of fall than the blazing summer outside. Everything was drenched with spirit energy, in a way almost reminiscent of a long-abandoned graveyard. A soft howl came from all around them and echoed back on itself, painfully haunting but also somehow hopeful.

“Oh,” Natsu whispered, as if raising their voice would break the illusion-like soft fog around them. “ _Oh_.”

Gray turned around to look at them. Natsu knelt by one of the thick bushes, fingers running lightly over the late blooms and their brilliant blue color. They had pulled their hair into a ponytail back when they first started chasing the call and during their trip into the thick forest, some leaves had gotten into it. Gently, Gray reached and removed one that had gotten stuck just behind their ear, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface of their horn.

“So, she’s here?” they asked, carefully stashing one of the flowers into the pocket of their sleeveless hoodie. “Is this… “ they gestured clumsily towards the fog, “ _her_?” 

“Kind of.” Spirits were difficult to explain to someone uninitiated. “Creatures like her can affect the area around them with their emotions, but they need something material,” he lifted the collar up for them to see, “to anchor them to our world.”

“So that’s why you needed the collar,” Natsu mused, rubbing their chin. “Then… If she’s here as you say, why isn’t she coming out? Doesn’t she recognize you?”

“She’s been lost for some time now. She’s probably scared.”

“I mean, I would. Being lost sucks.”

There was… _something_ in their voice, but Gray chose to not dwell on it for the sake of his own sanity. Instead, he sat down on the grassy ground (fuck it, his jeans were already ruined) and patted the place next to him. 

“Come over. We need to lure her out.”

“Won’t I scare her further away?” Natsu asked, but complied with a small smile. Their body seemed to radiate an unnatural, but not truly uncomfortable heat. “After all, I’m a stranger and what-not.”

Gray looked at them in the soft twilight and gave them a quick once-over. Then, he elbowed them lightly and smiled.

“I don’t think you can scare her even if you tried, weirdo,” he said at last. “She’s kind of a good judge of character, too.”

Natsu laughed, then bumped his shoulder in return.

Once their banter died down, Gray got serious. He lowered the collar onto the ground by his foot, the new shiny pawprint pendant facing up. Then he brought out the bag of apple slices Natsu had bought from one of the fruit stands and laid out some of them around the collar. He hadn’t taken any of her favorite blankets, unfortunately, but he always had at least one of her toys on him. A small and worn but well-loved seal plushie came from his pack.

“Snow,” he called quietly. “I know you are here, I can feel you. Come out to me.”

It took a couple minutes of gently beckoning her and using weak summoning spells until the foggy air in front of him seemed to solidify. The howling got more persistent, gaining a subtle but definitely here positive theme. The bushes around them rustled softly, as if something was moving through them.

At last, something very small and very fast appeared as of thin air before their very eyes, running towards them and promptly jumping right into Gray’s outstretched arms.

Gray let out a small laugh and cradled his only half corporeal familiar to his chest, tears welling into his eyes. After some minor struggles to wrap the collar around her neck, Snowflake became solid under his hands, soft fur and wet nose and everything. The fog around them dispersed, the unnatural chill in the air slowly melting away.

“I thought she was supposed to be bigger,” Natsu commented quietly.

Gray had took away from where little Snow was covering his face with large, wet dog kisses. In his utter joy, he’d almost forgotten about his companion. He opened his mouth to answer, but words failed him at the sight of the awe written all over their face, the oddly warm light in their eyes. Not for the first time since he’d met that weirdo, heat settled somewhere between his ribs and he had to fight the urge to smile like an idiot.

“She usually is,” he muttered instead, cradling the little thing to his chest. She was trembling despite her evident joy, trying to nuzzle her small wet snout into his clothes. “Fuck, she’s cold. I didn’t bring any blanket...”

“Got you covered, mate.” Natsu reached up and started tugging their hoodie off. “I’m warm anyway, I don’t need it… Here, it’s not much, but you can wrap her up with it.”

Making sure to be careful, the two bundled up Snow together into the warm orange hoodie until only her wet snout and the tips of her front paws stuck out of it. Gray held her close to his chest with one arm and brought the first apple slice to her mouth. She gladly munched it up, her warm tongue running over his fingers. Sure, people would say he was spoiling his dog, but people could kindly stick it up their asses.

“Thank you for all of this.” Gray looked up and smiled a bit. “For real. I couldn’t have found her if… you...”

He blinked once. Then twice.

“What’s the matter?” Natsu asked, confusion and worry bleeding into their voice. They waved their hand in front of his face. “Hey? Gray? You here?”

Reaching forward, Gray grabbed their wrist and held it firmly, pressing his fingers against the loose bandage-like wrap that went all the way up to their shoulder. There was a patch of skin, between the end of the bandage and the hem of their undershirt, a patch that had been covered by their hoodie but now stood naked to the eye. A patch of skin covered by deep blue lines, so deep they seemed almost black.

Unable to face the probably confused dragon in front of him, Gray gripped the end of the bandage and carefully unwound it. A sharp breath slipped from his lips, his eyes scanning the dark lines imprinted into their skin. Something—not quite dread, not quite elation—settled deep into his stomach. So lightly it felt as if he was barely touching them, he ran his fingers over the painfully familiar curl just under their wrist, then towards the lines that dragged up to their elbow. Sharp like the edges of a crystal, they ran up their arm until they turned back into curls that reminded him of the tongue of a flame. He didn’t need to see to know they turned back to crystals and then back into curls as they spanned over their whole chest, right over where their heart was.

The dark blue color set nicely against their sun-browned skin, too, contrasting with the patches of brown-red scales that covered the outer side of their arm and the back of their hands. Under the surface of the mark, where the crystal structure was at its thickest, a dark scar marred their skin, but it was hard to notice unless one was purposefully looking for it.

Heart thundered in his chest, Gray gathered every ounce of courage in his being and dared to look up at them. Natsu’s face was contorted in awe, their eyes sparkling with a warmth that brought out the flecks of light in them. Slowly, a smile pulled on the corner of their mouth. First, it was a small one—and then it grew and grew, until it stretched from ear to ear. A warm laugh fell from their lips.

Gods, he couldn’t look away.

“Let me see,” Natsu said, softly, scooting closer and closer until their thighs were touching, uncaring of the thick grass. “Let me see,” they repeated, quiet but persistent.

His heart long melted away in his ribcage, Gray held out his arm and rolled up his sleeve on command. The mark dragged over his skin, swirls that matched the color and shape of flames curling up over his arm in the very same manner they did over theirs. When Natsu traced one line that ran over the inside of his arm, he shuddered lightly. Warmth filled him almost immediately, chasing away any fear that might have dared to claim him.

Snow let out a soft yip and proceed to worm her way out of the hoodie and right between them, pressing her snout into Natsu’s hand and promptly demanding pets. Gray laughed.

“Ooooh, look at this cute little face you’re making! Of course I will pet you!” Natsu pulled Snow closer and showered her with affection, gently petting her fluffy head and scratching her ears. She seemed to enjoy it, for she pushed herself closer until she was stretched all over their lap. “What a good girl you are!”

“She’s a spoiled girl,” Gray said affectionately, giving her nose a small boop. Snow licked his fingers, then relaxed into all the attention she was getting. “She seems to like you.”

“ _Duh_.” Natsu scratched her fluffy belly. “You said she’s a good judge of character. No one has ever been able to resist my charms.”

Gray laughed again, then quickly covered his mouth. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew he was blushing, felt the heat spread over his face. Natsu gave him a sweet smile, then grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug.

They were warm, the heat of their skin soaking into his body. Gray had never truly enjoyed the heat, but he found it nigh impossible to pull away. The opposite, really—he wanted to move closer, to let the warmth envelop him and chase away everything that poisoned his mind.

“I’m happy,” he heard Natsu whisper, their breath tickling his skin. “That I found you. That it’s you.”

Gray hummed in answer and lets his arms slowly wrap around them. It was nice, being able to hold someone. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could almost hear the beat of their heart, how it matched his.

“I think I’m happy, too,” he whispered back, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: mira uses some big words and ends up with a nasty nosebleed.
> 
> (i'm highly enjoying these cryptic "next time" blurbs. probably more than i should.)
> 
> real talk though, thank you so much for the continued support, you guys are so sweet. i want to give a fair warning that i might or might not turn up late with chapter six - most of you probably don't know it, but i'm currently applying for uni and i have some assignments to work on and an interview on the 29th to prepare for. still, i will do my best to get chapter six edited in time for next tuesday! 
> 
> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!
> 
> please, stay safe and don't let this quarantine get to you. if you want to, come send me a message on tumblr/twitter, i'd love to make some new friends. 
> 
> i love you all!
> 
> (yes i'm still hoping for a beta don't @ me)


	6. MIRAJANE I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erza and Mira have a nice chat. Mira gets a nosebleed. Gay stuff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE ARE
> 
> THE END OF THE FIRST ARC, SO TO SPEAK
> 
> warning: big GAY
> 
> (also some blood but,,,,, who cares,,, ITS JUST A NOSEBLEED)
> 
> word count: about 4000

Despite what the general opinion of the mass of other employees working in the small, hole in the wall establishment was, Mira did in fact enjoy her job. (As far as hole in the wall places went, “Neon pink” was in the upper top percentage. The light music was balm to the ears, even if she said so herself, and there was no one to tell her to not put her music.) Tending the bar in the otherwise almost empty weekday nights satisfied her occasional need for solitude in an odd but very pleasant manner, even if the pay wasn’t as good as it would be if she took some of the busier shifts. 

Another plus, although one her siblings would often tease her about, is that she got to sate her thirst for gossip and drama by playing the neighborhood therapist to any poor, late-night soul who got the unlikely luck to stumble upon her. Mira enjoyed helping people and gathering information in equal proportions — it was never a bad thing to know a bit more for the people around you, especially if you could use that knowledge in your advantage.

And it wasn’t like she would remembering those miscellaneous details for more than two weeks, with how flawed her memory had become over the years.

Of course, she greatly preferred her primary daily job as a waitress in that cozy little cafe, but the bar had its own little charms. It couldn’t come up to par with things like getting free food, or being in surprisingly close walking distance to home or getting to spend time her lunch break with her precious little siblings, but it wasn’t half bad. 

Monday and Tuesday usually went by as the slowest days that tonight was no different. Mira hummed along the light music as she set down the final mug she’d just cleaned. Satisfied with her finished work, she leaned against the counter and allowed herself one long, dramatic sigh. She was tired, she was cranky, she was bored. Even though her night shift was fairly short, she wanted nothing more than for it to end immediately so she could go home and cuddle with Elfman and Lisanna, as long as Lisanna hadn’t brought yet another dangerous animal from the shelter. 

Maybe even have a snack or two. Snacks sounded like an amazing idea.

The door creaked softly (she kept telling her boss about the creaking, but did someone listen to her?) and a gust of air from the warm August evening blew by. A customer stood at the door, their shape half-hidden by the threshold overhang. Mira lifted her eyes from the oddly cracked floor tile she was observing for the past couple minutes and opened her mouth to greet the stranger. Her jaw fell slack, however, when her eyes caught the a spark of bright red under their hood.

The stranger seemed to hesitate at the entrance, their hand lingering on the handle. With some sense of finality,  _ she  _ took a deep breath, closed the door firmly and made her way over, her light steps echoing in the almost empty bar. She took her seat just one or two seats on the left from where Mira stood and lowered her hood. Her brilliant red hair caught the soft orange light of the lanterns, shining in a way that reminded of the sun at dawn, bloody and breathtaking at the same time. 

“Hello,” Her Excellency spoke softly, an almost-smile pulling on corner of her lips. “Long time no see. Mirajane, right?”

Mira fought down the destructive urges that filled her mind and carefully put down the glass she was holding, lest it break in her shaking hands. Lifting her head to meet the Dragon Queen’s dark eyes, she smiled a smile wide enough for her cheeks to hurt. The pain, if nothing else, could help her stay grounded and prevent her from strangling someone.

(She was, admittedly, still on the fence on  _ who _ exactly she was going to strangle.)

“Your Excellency,” Mira replied with a mocking bow of her head. “I didn’t expect to see you here so soon, much less all alone. Isn’t it dangerous for royalty to travel by themself? It’s a dark night…” She allowed her grin to turn sinister, sharp fangs catching light. “Who knows what kind of trouble might befall you?”

The High Queen of Dragonkind al but flinched at her pointed words and averted her dark gaze, her fingers gripping the counter’s smooth edge. Mira hummed peacefully as sweet, sweet satisfaction poured into her stomach at the sight of the barely concealed discomfort over her oddly beautiful face. (She did her best to ignore the sharp chill that settled somewhere behind the spot her heart had once inhabited.)

“I gave up the crown many years ago,” the Queen said, voice oddly choked up. Her fingers, work-hardened and calloused, ran over the smooth wood. They were pretty fingers. “Just Erza will do fine.”

Mira regarded her with an almost serene look, (were pretty Queens always so malleable?) then sashayed over to where she sat. The Dragon Queen watched her, discomfort radiating from her ever fiber in waves. Truly, it was a great source of amusement, to the see one who had once stood proud and tall struggling with a common, everyday conversation like this.

To be fair, meeting your soulmate for the first time of your conscious life was no everyday conversation, but who cared of the details?

“You know,” Mira whispered, an innocent smile pulling on her lips, “you almost killed me back then.”

“You would have killed  _ me  _ if I hadn’t,” the Queen bit back, then grit her teeth, as if ashamed by her own words.  _ Good. You should be. _ At last, she lifted her scarlet head and met her eyes. “I did what I had to.”

“You cost me an arm, you know.” Forgoing any manners she was probably supposed to exhibit, Mira held out her arm—the one that carried her soulmark,  _ their  _ soulmark, the familiar scarlet lines starting from the very tips of her fingers and going under her clothes, all the way to halfway down her calf. Her smile dripped with venom. “It took me a decade and half to grow it back.”

“Unlike you,” the Queen hissed, her voice growing sharper, “I can’t grow my limbs back.”

“Perhaps it’s about time you learn, then.”  _ Ah, there it is.  _ “Erza.”

The Dragon Queen jolted up, an almost adorable deer in the headlights look written over her pretty face. Mira quite liked how her name rolled off her tongue. She leaned forward, resting her upper body against her folded arms, and allowed her smile to soften.

“Ah… I must apologize, bullying you is just too much fun.” She waved her hand lightly. “Anyway. You already know who I am, but allow me to at least introduce myself after making such horrible first impression. My name is Mirajane. You can call me Mira… soulmate.”

And she held her hand out.

Erza regarder her hand with a wary look in her dark eyes, as if she would reach out and start strangling her every second. (Taking in account her previous life experiences as one of the most sought-after people in a war-torn country, it had probably happened at least once. And it wasn’t like Mira hadn’t just considered that as an option, was it now? ) At last, she deemed it safe, for she reached out and gave her a small, almost shy handshake.

_ Way to start off a relationship, _ Mira mused with a mildly amused smile. 

“So,” she thought out loud, letting her shoulders sag as the tension melted away, “what brings you here? Hopefully not a sudden urge to get drunk that stems from a traumatic experience in your youth.”

Erza stared at her for a moment, severely unimpressed. Then, the crease between her eyebrows disappeared and she smiled. 

(By all accounts, it wasn’t a bad smile. Even the thin scar that ran over the right corner of her mouth couldn’t ruin it the beauty of it.)

“Fortunately, no. I have developed better and hopefully healthier coping mechanisms over the years.” She laid her hands down on the counter. After a moment of hesitation, her eyes drifting to the slightly off-time digital clock on the far wall, she continued. “Thank you for what you did for my cousin, by the way. Whatever you did, it seems to have worked out for him.”

“Don’t thank me,” Mira said with a small shrug. “It’s kind of my job around here, being the neighborhood therapist and whatnot. Plus, Gajeel kept me company through my nice shift, I should be the one thanking you. Family business aside, what would you like to drink?”

“Something that does not contain alcohol, please. I’ve already had a hard time getting that horrible scent out of our laundry.” 

Mira let out a small laugh, then looked away, an unusual sort of heat spreading over her face. It disturbed her how much she wanted to laugh at those innocently said words, how much she wanted to soak into her warm presence. Ah, Fate was such cruel mistress.

“One ice water with lemon coming your way,” she called softly, then turned around and began preparing the drink. (As much as getting the ice out of the freezer could be considered preparation.) Once it was done, she brought it over to the Dragon Queen. When their fingers touched, electricity shoot up her arm and sent a pleasant warmth somewhere behind her ribs. “You still haven’t answered my question, though. What brings you here? Just simple gratitude for offering a shoulder to cry on to someone who obviously needed it?”

“Fair. That’s only a small part of it.” Erza sipped her water slowly, playing with the ice cubes in an almost endearing manner. “I wanted to talk with you.”

“Me?” Mira touched her chest, voice dripping with mock-awe. “What makes a humble mass murderer like me worthy of Her Excellency’s own attention? I can feel my knees melting down, I cannot stand upright.”

Erza lifted one eyebrow and stared at her with a flat, thoroughly unimpressed expression written on that pretty face of hers. Mira managed to hold it together for a couple of seconds before laughter bubbled in her chest.

“You’re having way too much fun with this,” Erza muttered, the ghost of a smile touching her lips.

She had such a pretty smile. Pity she didn’t seem to smile often.

“Please.” Mira winked. “What is life if not to have fun with it?”

Oh, she could swear she saw her ears turn red, but it was hard to make it out among the vivid color of her hair. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, her fingers itching to run through the thick scarlet tresses and find if they felt as soft as they looked. She wondered how they would brush against her cheek, how they would smell.

“I suppose there is some truth to your words,” Erza mused, ringers running over the rim of her glass. “As long as your fun doesn’t include murdering me, I suppose I’m fine with it.”

“Oh my, why would I? You are way too  _ pretty  _ to kill.”

Erza choked on her water.

* * *

Erza stayed over until the very end of her shift and even kindly offered to walk her home while she was cleaning up behind the register.

“You ought to not worry about me,” Mira said easily, feeling heat rise up her neck when the Dragon Queen gave her an almost fond look. She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and, done at last, walked out from behind the counter. “I’m a big girl, you know? I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Allow me, please,” Erza insisted with a small smile. Oh, how hard was to deny that smile. Did she even know the effect it had? “I’d like to spend some more time in your company, if don’t mind it.”

The heavy black lump that had once, many years ago, been her heart gave a pained throb and Mira found herself nodding along with a smile plastered on her face. Oh, how much she wanted to see that sweet smile again, she wanted to hear that warm, kind voice again. What she would give to have it all.

Having already closed off everything in the bar, Mira finally turned the key. The late summer wind blew around them and brought a pleasant chill after the smothering heat of the long August. Erza didn’t seem to be bothered by it, the air twirling in her hair. Her body seemed to radiate a peculiar but nonetheless pleasant kind of heat, strong enough for Mira to feel it even as they walked together.

“Do you live close by?” Erza asked some minutes after they’d left the closed bar.

“A twenty or so minutes,” Mira said with a soft hum. “One would say I’m quite lucky it’s just within walking distance from where my family lives, no?” 

“I would have asked if it’s safe to you to be out alone past midnight, but then I remembered who exactly you are,” Erza mused, a small smile lifting the scarred corner of her mouth. “Family, then? Who do you live with?”

“My younger siblings.” Mira smiled fondly, the mere thought of them lightening her mood. “I love them quite a lot. As my life is now, I simply cannot imagine it without them. They helped me so much when I was in a difficult place, mentally and physically. I haven’t been able to return their kindness ever since.” She inclined her head lightly. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you, one day, as long as you want to.”

“I’d love to.” Erza’s knuckles gently brushed the back of her hand, sending a flutter of sparks running through her body. The lump in her chest gave another nearly painful squeeze. “I have no doubt I’m going to adore them just as much as you do, seeing how fondly you speak of them. I trust your judgment.”

Mira let out a small laugh and leaned in closer, letting her fingers ghost over the length of Erza’s arm for a split second. Warmth lingered around her, wrapping around her yet not suffocating. A small part of her, the part that longed for that unfathomable closeness inherent only to those soulbound, yearned to grip her hand and lace their fingers so tightly than neither of them knew where one ended and the other began, to never pull apart. 

She was not as bold as to do that, though, so Mira silenced those childish voices and kept walking, enjoying the closeness and that gentle but reassuring warmth. Perhaps, in due time, she could grow confident enough to reach out and look after what her heart desired. Perhaps, in due time, she would be able to laugh and smile and touch without the shadow of fear constantly troubling her mind, with no hesitance and no worries. 

Perhaps, in due time, she could love truly, with all her heart and soul.

“I hope you’d like to meet my family one day, too,” Erza spoke out, pulling her from her reverie. “They can be quite the handful sometimes, that is true, but I’ve grown to love them for that as well.”

“Oh, but I have met both your cousins!” Mira said with a small laugh.

“They aren’t the only— Wait.” Erza stopped so suddenly Mira collided into her, reaching out to grip her firm arm as to not fall on her bum. “When— when have you met Natsu, exactly?”

“Gajeel brought them along to visit the night after we met,” she explained with a cheery smile after she recovered from the rather stunning collision. “And I wholeheartedly agree with you, they were actually  _ quite  _ the handful!” She laughed and lifted her head to meet her eyes. “I  _ adore  _ them. Watching the two of them argue was a treat like no other. Are they always like that?”

The sharp edges of Erza’s face softened into a soft smile, as if simply the thought of the family she seemed to love so much lit her up from the inside. 

“Mhm,” she confirmed with a soft shake of her head, sending scarlet tresses in the air. “If you think that’s bad, you haven’t seen us all together. You should come to visit our home one day and watch the family drama unfold.”

Mira laughed. 

“I find it hard to imagine the glorious, courageous Erza Belserion screaming after her cousins for stealing her french fries, but I admit the idea is highly entertaining,” she mused out loud, tapping her chin.

“You’d be surprised how often that exact scenario happens.” Erza stopped mid-step and tilted her head to the side so she could look through the window of a random shop on their side of the sidewalk. “And it’s Scarlet.”

“Hmm?”

“My name.” It took Mira a moment to realize Erza wasn’t staring at whatever goods the store held in its shelves, but instead at her own shade reflected in the window. “I go by Erza Scarlet, now.”

“Scarlet,” Mira repeated. It tasted like rosewater and cold steel, a peculiar but oddly pleasant mixture. “Like your hair.”

Erza turned around to face her, her fingers coming to twirl a lock of her hair in what seemed to be a habit. It was much shorter than what Mira remembered from the Great War — where it had once blown three or so feet behind her in the wind of the battlefield, now the very ends of it went just past her shoulders, resting at the top of her chest.

“Like my hair,” she agreed. 

Feeling bold, Mira stepped closer until there were only two or three breaths between them. Erza stood about half a foot taller than she was now and Mira had to lift her hand in order for her fingers to run through the fire-given-form of her hair. It was soft, warm and feather-light against her skin, sending a pleasant tremor all the way to the pit of her stomach.

It did nothing to lessen the inhuman need for touch and warmth that kept digging further and further past her ribcage.

“Why did you change it?” Mira asked softly, pulling her hand away and stepping back. “Your name, I mean.”

“I changed a lot of things after I gave up the crown,” Erza said with a thoughtful look in her eyes. They were a fascinating shade of gray, the color bringing images of clouds brewing into a storm to one’s mind. “Belserion was my ancestors’ name. Belserion was a battle cry.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Belserion was my mother’s name. It felt…  _ wrong  _ to carry it after her ashes were laid to rest, after the war was paid and buried and forgotten.”

“Do you miss her?” Mira asked. “Your mother, I mean.”

“At first? Constantly.” Erza looked up, towards the night sky. Stars twinkled back at them playfully, showering the rarely quiet Magnolia with their soft light. The moon was notably absent, nothing more than a pale crescent against the inky blue backdrop. “But now… The world has changed and I have changed, too. I will always miss her, I think. She loved me greatly, despite all her flaws, and I have never stopped loving her. Never stopping missing her. But… The war was many decades ago and there is no point on dwelling on a past we can’t change.” There was a hint of bitterness in those words. “And I like to think I’ve begun to learn how to let go.”

They walked in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Magnolia seemed unusually always quiet, in the little hours of the night, almost no passersby milling the streets.

“What about you?” Erza asked when they stopped to wait out a light. “Do you miss your parents?”

“I don’t remember them.” Mira took her arm when the light turned green and gently tugged her across the street. “Don’t remember any of my birth family, to be honest.”

“But you just said— siblings— ”

“Elfman and Lisanna, and I— we’re not really— it’s not— ” Mira took a deep breath, trying to right her thoughts. Thinking about the past always turned her mind into a jumbled mess, unable to recognize which thought to what belonged. It took her a minute or so to form a coherent sentence. “We… we aren’t related by blood,” she spoke slowly, distractedly gripping her arm tighter. “We just… we found… each other. And we’ve been together since… then.” She gestured somewhere in the air, her fingers oddly shaking, then looked back at Erza. “Am I making sense?”

Erza gave her a gentle nod and brought her to lean against a nearby wall. Mira didn’t know her breathing had become labored until Erza slowly began talking her out of it, her voice quiet and gentle but persistent. Her hands were shaking violently. She tasted something familiar and coppery on her lips and upon examination discovered her nose was bleeding in a thin, dark trickle.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, trying her to offer her best smile when her head felt like stuffed with cotton. “You shouldn’t be seeing me like this, I’m— I’m such a mess— ”

“It’s okay,” Erza reassured her, then held out a bottle of water and some wet wipes. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Mira took her time to ground herself, wiping away the blood from her face and urging her body to mend itself faster. The bottle was almost empty by the time she was done with it. Her trembling had lessened, her breathing slowly returned to its regular pace. She felt immensely thankful for Erza attempting to keep her calm—and even then, she could still see the tightness in her jaw, the concern clouding her stormy gray eyes.

“I’m fine,” Mira said once she judged herself stable. She needed a shower and a long nap, but she was relatively alright. “I— Let’s go now, alright? My building is just a little down the street, right— do you see those pink streetlights?”

“Is that it?” Erza asked, her smile both amused and relieved. “Let’s go then and get you home.”

And she held out her hand.

Mira hesitated for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. She found herself unable to resist the temptation and reached out, linking their hands together. Together, hands clasped tightly (but not laced, not laced yet) they strode down the length of the street. There was a peaceful kind of silence between them.

At last (too soon, too fast) they were standing at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the upper floors. Mira offered her best charming smile and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, wriggling her fingers together with some unbidden nervousness.

“Thank you for keeping me company through my shift,” she said, “and for walking me home after, even though I told you not to. I had fun tonight.”

“Thank you for hearing me out and letting me fix whatever bad blood we had between us,” Erza said with a smile. Her smiles were small but warm. Hard-won but precious. “I had fun, too. You are very… comfortable to be around.”

“You flatter me, Your Excellency,” Mira teased. “Although I won’t say our past is  _ completely  _ healed. You’d have to put some more hard work.”

Erza tensed for a moment, but when she noticed the wink, her shoulders slacked with relief. Her eyes lit up at the unsaid challenge.

“Oh? And what does that require from me? I’d let you know I don’t shy away from hard work.”

“Of course you’d want to know.” Mira clicked the elevator button. As they waited for it to come down, she stood on her toes in and pressed a small kiss to the dragon queen’s cheek. “Call me for our second date, will you?”

Before the flustered Erza would answer (oh, hearing her stutter was so  _ endearing _ !), Mira walked into the open elevator and pushed the button for her floor. She waved to her soulmate and watched the elevator doors close.

“I should wear heels next time,” she mused out loud, lightly tapping her finger against her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this! we have officially finished the first leg of this story, what i have called arc one or "the exposition!"
> 
> i have decided to take one week off, so the next chapter, chapter 7, will be up on the 12th instead of the 5th. next time, we begin the second arc which is filled with. uhh. a lot of emotions and a lot of wack stuff. be prepared.
> 
> in the meantime, i plan to use those two weeks to work some more on the remaining chapters... but to also outline and start writing my new multi-chapter, "All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter", a fairy tail zelda-verse au mainly taking place in breath of the wild-era hyrule
> 
> (meaning,,,, if anyone out there likes zelda,,,, pls come yell with me,,,,,)
> 
> come visit me at my tumblr, [pan-princess-levy](http://pan-princess-levy.tumblr.com/)! now you can also follow me on twitter [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva) and look at my art!
> 
> please, stay safe and don't let this quarantine get to you. if you want to, come send me a message on tumblr/twitter, i'd love to make some new friends.


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